Angel of Hope
by HurogWalker
Summary: Orphaned at age eleven, Seraphina lives in her opera house alone. One night, a stranger comes. Seraph's uncle is plotting to get rid of her and take the theatre from her as well as her fortune but did he plan for the Phantom of the Opera getting involved?
1. When Angels meet

I sincerely believe I've fallen in love with dear Erik, the Phantom of the Opera. So yeah, another fanfic. Tell me what you think.

Enjoy (and review!)

* * *

The Opera house stood there, silent in her dusty glory, empty save for one inhabitant. No, this is not the Opera Populare in Paris, but a different one. The stories that could be told by this building would chill your blood but for one young person, this structure is home. Safety. Love and caring. Shelter.

You see, five years ago the owners of the Opera house died a terribly strange death. They had been queer people, though liked well enough by those who knew them. In their will they had left everything, their small fortune, their large, spacious home, and the Opera house, to their young daughter, who was at the time only eleven years old.

She inherited immediately, as specified in the will and people began to slowly draw away from this small girl who had so much. Mothers warned their daughters away from playing with her out of fear that it might damage their marriageability later.

Seraphina, for that was the child's name, took to covering her noticeable red hair, watching her friends play from a ways away.

Only one family didn't shun her, that of the constable.

The towns people strongly encouraged her to sell the Opera house, telling her that the large house _and_ the huge building were simply too much for a little girl to have. She simply stared at them, her blue eyes flashing.

'Very well,' she told them, 'if I can't have both then I shall sell one.' She had the papers drawn up and placed the house on the market. There were too many memories of her parents there anyway.

Seraphina slowly became a master of disguise, living in the theatre as she was. She started to only go out to market undercover, avoiding stares and prices that had been jacked up for her.

People that had know her when her parents were alive came by and visited her at her theatre, often bringing food or other useful things.

Seraphina began to discover secret passages and tunnels in her home and explored them with great care, locating the traps mostly without mishap. Once she knew these passages inside out she devised her own traps to add as well as furnishing a secret sanctuary for herself deep underground.

Her uncle visited at least once every month and she watched him with distaste from the hidden hallways, noting everything he touched for later cleaning, she despised him that much. Never did she let him see her or speak to him. She wouldn't trust him as far as she could throw him and that wasn't far at all.

Indeed, the time she enjoyed the most was in the evenings or at night when she would go up onto the roof and look out over the lands, gazing at the stars or marveling at the colors of the sunset. After, she would go back inside and sing to herself or dance. She had always wanted to be a singer or dancer in the operas and she'd had lessons when her parents were alive but no longer.

* * *

Five years after the death of her parents she was stretching and dancing on the grand stage, a music box playing softly, echoing strangely in the huge room. Suddenly she heard a sound behind her and turned, dropping into a fighting crouch. There was a figure in the darkness. A man. She glared and backed out of the light until she was just as hidden in shadow as he was. He stepped forward so she could make out his figure a little better. He was tall and well built, holding one hand over the side of his face.

"Might I trouble you for a mask?" He asked, his voice low and very masculine.

"Why?" Seraphina demanded, suspicious of this sudden intruder.

"Because you won't like my face."

His voice was a little hoarse either from too much emotion or exhaustion, she couldn't tell.

Moving slowly and carefully, never taking her eyes off the man in the shadows, Seraphina got one of the many masks that had been scattered around the theatre before she gathered them all. She glanced at the one she first came across. It was black and would cover his entire face but for his mouth and eyes.

She wasn't heartless and if he wanted a mask she supposed it probably wouldn't harm her to give him one. So long as that was all he wanted.

She looked back at the man who hadn't moved and tossed the mask over to him, gratified that he caught it in a quick movement of the hand not covering his face. He turned his back and put the mask on.

"Are you running from the law?" She asked, seeing it as her right to know whom exactly was in her theatre.

The man was silent for a moment. "Do you live here?" He countered.

Seraphina resisted the childish urge to tell him that since she had asked first he had to answer first. "Yes, I do. Why are you here?"

"By yourself?"

Seraphina stared at the man. Surely he didn't really expect her to be he only one answering. This was _her_ home, not his. She decided it was worth the risk and stepped back into the light, sitting on the edge of a crate, though it was only an illusion of surety.

"No, my family lives here too. And our dog, he's really mean so if you see him stay away. He bites." The lies came easily to her lips. And what did he think to gain if she was by herself.

The man looked at her in silence and Seraphina crossed her arms, waiting.

After a few minutes the music box wound to a halt, leaving the air still and silent.

"Look, I gave you a mask like you asked and I've answered your questions. It's only polite that you answer mine as well." She told him.

He was silent a moment longer then said, "Maybe. This seemed the most likely place to stay."

Seraphina blinked. "I see. Why would one think that a seemingly abandoned opera house was the most likely place to stay?"

The man swayed slightly and the girl sighed. "Sit down before you fall down." She ordered imperiously. The man did so, sinking to the floor. Seraphina got to her feet and picked up a lantern, carrying it closer to him so she could see him better. He was tense, his eyes following her every move. She set the light down on the floor and retreated so it was between them and sat on the floor as well.

She drew her knees up and rested her chin on them, leaning back against yet anther crate. They were all over the place. Someday maybe she would get around to moving them.

She stared into the flickering flame, steeling glances at the stranger. He leaned back against a crate as well and tipped his head back, closing his eyes.

"What's your name?" He asked without moving.

"Seraphina. Call me Seraph." She wasn't sure why she'd said that. Only her parents had called her that. Ever. "What's yours?" She asked. Again, the masked man didn't answer.

She sighed. "Fine. May I give you a name instead of calling you 'Hey you with the mask'?"

She thought she might have seen a flicker of humor pass over the man's face but it was probably just the lighting.

"Go ahead," was his only reply.

_Go ahead what? Give you a name?_ "May I call you Gabriel?" She asked quietly, unsure why exactly she had chosen that name for him. It just seemed to fit somehow.

His head came up and he opened his eyes, obviously waiting for an explanation. A faint smile slithered across her face and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes, pointedly not answering.

"Why Gabriel?" The man said, his voice dangerously quiet. Seraphina cracked one eye, watching him to be sure he didn't make any sudden moves.

"You try my patience." He told her, an edge to his voice.

"_Your_ patience. I see." She shrugged. "It just seemed to fit somehow." She wasn't sure how he would take it so she didn't tell him that the Gabriel she had been thinking of had been the angel. Foolish, sentimental woman that she was, she had somehow managed to compare a fugitive from the law to an angel.

After a few more minutes of unmoving silence Seraphina got to her feet. "You hungry?" She asked. The man shrugged and she took that as a yes, going over to the other side of the stage to get the basket of food she had brought with her. While she was there she re-wound the music box before returning to where she had left Gabriel. He was gone. She looked around and heard a faint sound, following it quickly. Before long she caught up with the man, knowing her way through better than he.

She was unsure what she was going to do when she did catch him but that was all right.

"Wait. You should eat something, you look like a ghost."

His eyes met hers and he made a sound that could have been a snort with a little more effort.

"Please," she said as she realized how much she really missed people. He'd been nice enough so far, if a little closemouthed. "You can stay here, I won't turn you in to the police. There's plenty of room."

The man studied her. "And your family?" He inquired after a moment.

Seraphina colored slightly, though she resisted the urge to duck her head. "They'll be fine with it."

She hadn't thought of that. _Oops_.

She led the man back to where she'd left the food and sat down next to it. He sat back down a little ways away, always watching her.

Seraphina opened the basket and got out the food, splitting each thing into slightly uneven halves, giving him the bigger of each. When she was done dividing it, she passed him his.

"Where are you from?" She asked softly. He surprised her by answering.

"Paris."

She looked up at him, startled. He had a beautiful voice. She wondered if he could sing.

"Paris," she repeated. She had been to Paris with her parents three weeks before they died. They had taken her to see an Opera there and it had been the most wonderful experience. Her theatre wasn't the same scale as the Opera Populare was and the production seemed so much different since she hadn't seen all the actors rehearsing it.

"They have a beautiful Opera house. Perhaps you've been. The Opera Populare?"

'Gabriel's eyes flashed for a moment and he looked at her like she had struck him. Obviously he had painful memories associated with the opera.

"Sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. I went once, that's all."

They finished eating in silence and after she led him out to the rooms that she kept clean. Her living area. She showed him to the spare bedroom and retreated to her own.

The following morning she got up at her usual time and made breakfast for the two of them, liking very much the feeling of having someone else there with her. After it was ready she slipped silently into 'Gabriel's bedroom. He wasn't there but the cloak that he'd been wearing was and the bed was rumpled. She sighed to herself and hoped he wasn't gone.

A bell chimed in the kitchen, alerting her to someone approaching the door. She scrambled to a window and looked down. It was Amelia, the constable's daughter and her only friend, though they didn't see each other often. Seraphina trotted down to the door and opened it, hugging her friend.

"Hello. What brings you to my humble abode? Come in, come in."

Amelia laughed and came inside.

"I brought you some papers and information. There have been some goings on that I think will interest you 'Phina. You know the big opera house in Paris? You went there right? It burned down three days ago. Very interesting story they've come up with as to why as well and I thought you'd like it, living alone in this place as you do."

Seraphina accepted the newspapers from Amelia.

"Thank you. Very thoughtful of you."

"Also," Amelia hesitated. " 'Phina, your uncle's been asking my dad strange questions. Like what happens if a relative dies with no will. Just so you know, all the deceased's property and possessions go to the next of kin, if you get my meaning. He's been sniffing into a lot of legal things and it has us worried. He's planning something."

Seraphina nodded. "I'll be careful. Thank you very much for warning me. Your friendship means a lot."

"I don't like you living here by yourself, it's dangerous, not to mention bad for your health."

The two young women embraced again and Amelia sadly said that she had to be on her way.

After Amelia was gone, Seraphina picked up the papers and trotted back upstairs with them. She would see if she cold find Gabriel and then they could eat. She took the paper into the kitchen and froze as she noticed that her alert system told her that someone was in the tunnels. She had wondered. Quickly she made her way to the nearest entrance and slipped inside, wanting to find Gabriel before he got hurt. If he wasn't already.

* * *

Please


	2. Truth, Poison, and Masks

Okay, so don't expect me to update so fast too much (unfortunately I have school…) but I though, why not? I mean, Erik really needed someone so…

Thank you to those of you that read the last chapter and especially to Phantom's-Only-Christine for her review :) (I will definitely read your stories) And to answer your question, yes it's a Erik/OC fic ;)

I *sob* do not own Erik (though I admit, I would probably kill to do so) or the rest of the stuff from The Phantom Of The Opera. Just my Ocs and the plot… and my opera house.

Enjoy!

* * *

Seraphina ran along the passage as fast as she dared, agilely leaping from right to left and back again, successfully avoiding the stones that would trigger sleeping darts. She'd had a run in with those nasty little things once and didn't care to repeat the experience. She rounded the corner and hastily slipped to a stop, throwing her weight backwards to avoid stepping on the limp form of the man. Apparently, he'd been doing pretty well with the stones but missed one.

Seraph sighed. She didn't know how she was going to get him back upstairs again. He had already found the secret passages so what was the harm in taking him to her underground lair. He would have eventually made his way there anyway and it wasn't like there was anyone he could tell, running from the law as he was.

A dark corner of her mind whispered that he might have been sent by her uncle to snoop and that made her hesitate.

She could take him there and not let him out again until she knew if he was working for her uncle. She would adjust the traps and triggers to be more sensitive now that it wasn't just her that knew about the passages.

She put her hands on her hips and stared down at the man crumpled on the floor, trying to decide the best way to move him. With another sigh she bent over and placed his arm across her shoulders, heaving him more or less upright.

Thankfully for her, he was underweight, like he hadn't eaten enough in a while. Part pulling, part dragging, and part carrying, she managed to get the man almost to the edge of the underground lake before he stirred.

She moved faster and got him into the boat, no easy task, and pushed off before sitting down and taking the oars, rowing them deeper underground. She watched him carefully as he began to come fully conscious.

His eyes opened and he glanced around before his eyes came to rest on her. He glared at her. What exactly had she done to deserve that?

He pushed himself upright then winced and rubbed his shoulder. Seraph noted proudly that it was the side she'd been hauling him with. Any pain she could cause to a man working for her uncle was worth the inconvenience and he'd get over it. There was no lasting harm done.

She picked up the pole that she kept in the boat and used it to press on a rock that they were passing, a large section of stone slipping up and a steel grate on the other side sinking down into the murky water. She paddled the boat into the huge cavern and the opening closed again. She steered the boat over to the dock on the right side of the lake and loosely tied it up.

"Welcome to the heart of my Opera." Seraph told him smugly. He was looking around, his eyes unreadable. She got out of the boat and went over to the ice chest. It was cold enough down here that she rarely ever needed to get more ice, which was nice. She got out some bread, cheese, and meat, efficiently making two sandwiches, before putting the rest away.

She carried one over to the man, who had now gotten out of the boat, prodding at his shoulder, probably wondering why it hurt.

"Try not to get knocked out again. You're heavy."

His eyes turned on her and flicked once over her figure, probably trying to picture her hauling his carcass through the hallways riddled with deadly traps. It hadn't been easy and the fact that they were both still alive was pretty amazing.

She held up the food that she had been holding out to him. "You want this or not?"

He eyed it for a moment and cautiously took it from her, though she noticed that he waited until she had taken a bite to do the same with his.

Seraph walked over to a couch and sprawled across it. "How much is he paying you to risk your life here with me, Gabriel? Hasn't anyone warned you that I'm unstable and dangerous?"

'Gabriel' remained silent for a moment. "No one's paying me."

Seraph turned and looked at him. She had to admit, he cut a dashing figure in his carefully tailored clothes and his chest wasn't bad either from what she had been able to feel while hauling him around.

"Personal reasons, huh? Which way is it, did you hate my parents and now me or does he have someone you love?"

To her surprise the man snarled. "I love no one."

She blinked at him. "I see. So I'm going to hazard a guess that it's the former then. Very well. I can live with that."

He had finished his sandwich and was now pacing back and forth, examining various things.

Seraph got to her feet and dusted off the few crumbs that had fallen off her bread and made her way back to the boat.

"Stay in here, if you try to leave you may very well lose your life. There's food and water so you probably won't die before I come back. You can make yourself at home here, just don't make a mess." She said as she discreetly triggered the timed-delay opening mechanism. She counted in her head and pushed on a rock on the wall a few seconds before the door was due to open, curious to see if she could make the man attempt to move the rock. The door opened and she paddled out of the cavern without a backward glance.

* * *

When she got back upstairs, Seraph put breakfast back in the refrigerator for another time. She would go back down to see how Gabriel was holding up later, first she wanted to read the papers that Amelia had brought her.

Apparently, a ghost, known as the Phantom of the Opera, had inhabited the Opera Populair and he had tried to steel the love of a young chorus-girl-turned-star and failed. In revenge he'd burned the place.

When the paper described what he looked like (terrible to behold, his face hideously disfigured) she paused, thinking of the man down in the dungeons that had asked her for a mask. She quickly skimmed the rest until she saw that he was thought to have died but no body had yet been found.

Was it possible that this 'Opera Ghost' was here in her theatre now? She didn't believe the ghost bit if it was him, he was real enough. A ghost would have been easy to carry. She frowned. Or maybe it would have been harder, just not heavier. She shrugged to herself and glanced up at the clever carvings on the walls that comprised her early warning system. There was someone in the passages again. The ones near where she had left Gabriel.

Seraph cursed under her breath and got up, quickly heading back down into the dark depths.

* * *

This time it was not sleeping darts. No, it was a poison but Seraph wasn't too worried. It hadn't been in his system long and she had the antidote. It was just a matter of getting his once-again-unconscious body back to the cavern. Thankfully he hadn't gotten far, though how he had managed to find the secret door was a mystery.

She managed to get him back and into the bed she had there. She removed his coat and vest, loosening the neck of his shirt as well before taking off his shoes and socks. She covered him with a blanket and hesitated by his head, biting her lip. She mentally shrugged and reached for his mask, bracing herself for a hideously deformed face like the papers had described. She slowly removed it. Left side of his face was breathtakingly handsome but the right side… She could see how some might think it terrible to look on. She knelt next to the bed and examined the bubbled and scarred skin. It looked as though at one time it might have just been a burn, though now a bit exaggerated.

Under her closer inspection it looked as though part of his hair… She rolled her eyes and pulled off the wig, though the hair underneath it was perfectly fine except that it was a good deal thinner on the right side. All in all, he was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen (much less hauled _twice_ through her secret domain). She set the wig and mask on the table next to the bed and folded the clothes, setting them and his shoes near the bed as well.

Seraph went to her medicine cabinet and fetched the antidote, tipping the small vial into his mouth. He would still feel terrible for several days but it served him right.

With a sigh and one last look at the handsome man she drew the curtains surrounding the bed and went over to her bookshelves, selecting a novel and carrying it back over to the couch. He would wake up in a little while and they would talk about the terms of his stay.

* * *

Seraph jumped as a wordless roar of rage echoed around the underground chamber. She managed to calm herself though before he stormed out and looked around for her. She looked coolly up from her book.

"Awake are we?" She said, raising one eyebrow. He had his mask back on again and his eyes were filled with the rage she had just heard echoing through her very bones.

"You!" He spat at her, his tone venomous. "You're just like her. I told you not to take off my mask!"

"You told me no such thing. Now, are you going to stand there yelling at me or are you able to come over here and have a discussion with me like a civilized person?"

He continued to glare at her but he came closer. Seraph gestured to the chair across from the couch but he shook his head.

"Fine. Are you or are you not the Phantom of the Opera Populair?" She asked, gauging his expression as best she could.

"I am the Opera Ghost." He said, affirming what she had thought. She nodded.

"That explains why you came looking for shelter at an abandoned theatre. Tell me why I should harbor a murderer."

He said nothing and Seraph sighed.

"What would you like me to call you? Phantom? All powerful Ghost of the Opera in Paris?"

Again, he didn't reply.

"Alright, Phantom it is then. Or maybe Gabriel still, I'm not sure." She looked into his eyes, which her traitorous mind noticed were a lovely shade of gray-blue. "Will you hurt me?"

He didn't answer so she repeated the question again. "Will you hurt me Phantom?"

"That would depend on your actions." He hissed.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes, until further notice'. Do you want to stay here with me Opera Ghost?"

He turned away from her and started to pace. After several minutes of silence Seraph sighed.

"Is that a yes or a no? Sir, I can't for the life of me interpret your silences. If you want to leave I can see to it that my secrecy is preserved but once you leave I can never allow you back. Or if you choose to stay I'll show you around."

Suddenly the Phantom doubled over, holding his stomach.

Seraph got quickly to her feet. "Come, you should go back to bed."

"What have you done to me?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "You did it to yourself you fool. I told you to stay put but no, you had to go wandering around. You'll be fine in a few days."

The man groaned and Seraph went about fetching things he'd need, such as a bucket, damp cloths, and a glass of water.

After he was settled as comfortably as could be expected she went back to her book. A while later, she checked on him, but he was asleep.

She went up through the fastest of her passages and found the storage chests where she had put the men's costumes when the operas had stopped. She found an armful of clothes that she thought might fit him and then went back once more to where the masks were. She picked out several that would suit him and found a fairly simple black and white one. A smile flitted across her features and she carried her findings back down to the cavern.

The Phantom was still asleep but he was dreaming now. Bad dreams from the sound of it. He was crying and calling out for someone named Christine. Unable to stand the suffering he was going through she carried her burdens over beside the bed and set them down before shaking his shoulder gently. He came awake with a start, his eyes filled with pain, he had her laying across his lap before she could blink, his hands on her throat, cutting off her air.

Seraph didn't struggle. She stared calmly into his eyes, trusting that he would let her go. Or not, but it was up to him now.

His expression smoothed over, though there were still tears on the mask he wore, and he released her neck.

Seraph drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her pounding heart. It had probably been the hardest thing she had ever done to lie there without fighting back as everything in her had been screaming to do.

The Phantom pushed her away and she got up off the bed. "I believe you were dreaming." She told him coldly. "You were making a terrible racket."

Seraph felt bad hiding her fear behind coldness but he couldn't know he had frightened her. This was _her_ opera.

She gathered up the clothes and masks again and turned to leave, one of the masks falling to the bed as she swept out of the sleeping area.

The Phantom stared after her for a long moment before he reached over and picked up the object she had dropped. It was a mask. Those had been men's clothes she'd had and if she'd gotten more masks too… And in return he'd almost killed her.

His fingers closed around the mask and his eyes shut.

Eventually, Seraph fell asleep on the couch, the mask she was altering in her lap. The Phantom of the Opera got out of bed and went over to her, watching her with his unreadable gray-blue eyes before he took the mask out of her lap and lifted her into his strong arms and taking her to the bed.

"It goes against my honor to leave a woman to sleep on the couch while I have a bed." He whispered softly before withdrawing to the couch.

* * *

*cough* Uh, if I stole anything from other people's stories then I'm terribly sorry...

Please


	3. Of cats and violence

Well, I have to say I am very happy with how this is going so far, please, tell me what you think of it, I can handle anything you want to throw at me comment wise and I'm eager to improve. If you ever have requests for additions to the story, just say so and I will do my best to work it in somewhere.

Thank yous and cookies go to Phantom's-Only-Christine, Cristy201, and Oakheart for your kind reviews. I live and breath reviews and they make me write a lot faster, so if I get feedback I'm more likely to push aside other things (chores, school, other fanfics) in favor of getting more happy notes from my beloved readers.

I unfortunately do not own The Phantom of the Opera or therefore any of the characters from said movie/book/whatever.

The song is If Everyone Cared by Nickelback and I don't own it either.

Enjoy!

* * *

Seraph woke slowly, comfortable and warm, and stretched luxuriously. She opened her eyes after a few minutes. Where was she? This most certainly was not her room… The Phantom.

She sat up quickly, then had to clutch at her protesting head as the world spun. She climbed out of the bed and looked around curiously, wondering where the man was if he wasn't in bed like he should have been.

She located him on the couch, sleeping. Seraph glanced at her watch that she kept with her. It was late afternoon. She frowned. This would make it two days of cleaning she had missed. Normally, she spent a few hours each day going systematically through a few rooms and tidying just a bit, some dusting, a little sweeping, and making sure that all the doors were open for the resident cats that she liked to encourage. Not only did the cats catch mice, rats, and other nasty things she would rather not meet some dark night, they could also be surprisingly good companions.

Speaking of cats, she heard a soft, but demanding mew by her feet. Seraph had never been sure how they did it, but the cats all had this odd inherent ability to successfully avoid all the traps and triggers.

She crouched down and extended her hand to the beautiful tortishell she-cat.

"Hey pretty-baby-kitten-love…" Seraph purred, three octaves higher than usual, as the cat sniffed her hand and rubbed her head against the girl's hand.

Seraph colored slightly as she heard a soft sound behind her. She really hoped the infamous man behind her hadn't heard her. She glanced over her shoulder to see the masked man standing there, gazing around the cavern.

Seraph couldn't quite decipher his expression. With a soft sigh she scooped the cat up into her arms, carrying her over to be introduced to 'Gabriel'.

"This is Willow. Willow, this is..." Seraphina hesitated. "Well, it would be strange for you to call him Phantom, so we'll go back to Gabriel."

Unreadable gray-blue-green eyes turned to stare at her. Seraph lowered her gaze to the feline in her arms, unnerved by his gorgeous eyes and the utter lack of emotion in them.

She moved a little closer to him and twisted around a bit so he and the cat could get properly acquainted.

The man turned away and both the girl and the cat stared at him with very similar expressions, though the cat was a little more indignant than Seraph.

Seraph shrugged and turned away, murmuring quietly to the Willow, all but daring the man to ask. He didn't. Indeed, he looked like he was looking for something.

Finally when he hadn't moved for quite some time, Seraph decided that it would go against her nature to let the poor fellow think in peace.

"So," She started. No response. "What do you do for fun?"

Still he ignored her. After an uncomfortable minute or two of silence in which the cat grew bored and left, she began tapping her foot. Still nothing. Her head cocked to one side and she gazed at the man curiously as she began to alter the tempo of the tapping, making it erratic.

After only a few moments she was gratified to see him twitch. She kept tapping her foot.

It only took another few moments for him to break. He turned to her, his eyes blazing with annoyance and fury. Seraph tried to tell herself that she was only imagining a ting of sad loneliness in his gaze as well.

"Get out." He spat, venom coating his words. Seraph blinked several times, startled by his sudden reaction. Maybe that hadn't been the smartest thing.

"You do _not_ disturb my peace and refuge with discordance. Out."

Seraph continued to simply stare at him and after a long moment she slowly, deliberately, crossed her arms.

She wasn't sure why she was so reckless around this man but she couldn't seem to help herself.

His eyes flashed and he stormed away from her, sweeping objects off their resting places onto the floor as he went.

"Don't try to leave, I'm not dragging your carcass back here again to give you another antidote."

He seemed to pause for the briefest of moments before continuing away from her.

"Fine then." She muttered just loud enough for him to hear if he was listening. She went over to the couch, searching for the mask she was altering.

It was sitting on a small table near the couch where she had fallen asleep. A stab of remorse struck her. She really shouldn't have annoyed him so, he'd giving up the bed for her.

She bit her lip and recalled his face to the best of her ability, remembering exactly how much of his face was scarred. Finally she decided to split the mask right down the center and work from there.

Drawing a knife from her side, she carefully scored the material. Yes, that should work. She leaned against a nearby stalagmite and worked at carefully cutting through the mask.

He had a beautiful face and she wanted to be able to see at least _some_ of it, even if he felt he had to hide the scarred half.

She looked around curiously for him. He was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.

She frowned, angry with herself for upsetting him.

"Hey," she called softly. He didn't look up, though he stiffened so she knew he'd heard her.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." Silence.

"Will you forgive me?" Still nothing.

Seraph's shoulders sagged and she pressed her lips tightly together, going back to working on the mask.

* * *

He tried his hardest to bury all the memories and feelings that plagued him, thoughts of another theatre far too similar to this one. The girl had apologized to him from his bad behavior and that only made it all so much worse.

He didn't need anyone's help, certainly not a young girl's. He would wait here until he discovered how to safely get out then he would leave.

Christine had left him. He wanted to be alone.

He looked up at the girl, leaning against a pillar of stone, a knife and something else she was working with intently in her hands.

His eyes swept around the large cave again but he saw nothing that interested him. He stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, hoping for dreamless slumber.

* * *

Seraph glanced up as she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. The man was now lying on the bed. She stared down at the mask in her hands. It had one been a full-face mask but she had cut it in half down the nose. Now she needed to see it next to his face so she could cut it down some more, contour it to match the lines and angles.

She would wait until he was asleep though. Seraph got her book and sat down to read for a while.

She was almost done with the book when she decided that he was most likely asleep by now. She climbed to her feet and stole silently to where he lay.

She gently and carefully slipped her warm fingers under the edge of the mask he was wearing and slipped it off. He really was beautiful, aside from the horrific scars, but even those weren't really that bad. She held her mask close to him, memorizing where it should arch and curve to compliment his face. Once she had what she wanted to do with it firmly in mind, she tucked her mask away into a pocket and replaced his mask as gently as she could, moving it back down over his face. She froze as his eyes opened and he stared at her with anger, backing away a few steps as he rolled to his feet.

"Do you get a sick thrill at the sight of my face?" He sneered at her.

"N-no, I didn't mean to-" Her words were cut short as he backhanded her powerfully. She stumbled back, holding her face and staring at him in shock.

"You had every intention." He growled, turning on his heel and striding away from her.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes so she closed them, letting the droplets of water cascade down her cheeks, sparkling like diamonds. Her face stung where he had hit her and she knew that it was probably red, or at least pink, by now.

She blinked several times to dispel the water from her eyes and slipped out of the chamber, going through a hidden doorway behind a hanging tapestry. She avoided the traps easily enough in the darkness, her memory sharp and clear, knowing where to place each foot and where not to.

She slipped through passages to the kitchen she used and sat there at the table, getting out the mask once more.

She worked dutifully on it, glancing up at the walls once in a while to be sure Gabriel had stayed in the cavern.

Willow jumped up on the table and came over to the young woman, mewing in concern.

"I'm alright baby, really." She whispered, though tears threatened her again.

She hadn't done anything to deserve his harsh blow. Maybe she should have just left him there when he had tried to escape. It would have made her life a lot simpler.

Instantly guilt washed through her, ashamed that she had even though of leaving him there to die. She really had been alone far too long if she was thinking terrible things like that. And anyway, it wouldn't have made anything any easier; she would have had a body to deal with.

Seraph closed her eyes for a long moment, clearing away all of her thoughts. She got to her feet and fetched something cold out of the ice chest, not caring what it was, though if anyone had been there to see or care she might have picked something other than the jar of milk. It probably looked more than a little odd.

She hummed quietly to herself, not really paying attention to what she was humming. Perhaps it was even something she had come up with on her own, she didn't care.

Sitting down again, she went back to work on the mask. She had cut it to the shape she wanted for it and was now painstakingly contouring it to look more like a face, rather than just some odd dark gray, almost silver, thing on his head.

Seraph stilled and her heart stopped as she heard a clatter from the main entry and a man's voice curse.

Her uncle was back.

Quickly she put the milk back in the icebox as soundlessly as possible and tucked the mask and knife back into their places on her person, dashing to the hidden door.

She went through the passages again to watch her uncle carefully as he made his usual trek through her theatre, looking around himself for any sign of a change. There were no footprints in the dust on the floor other than his own and those of cats and rodents but this didn't surprise him. There hadn't been since the girl moved here.

After his usual tour of the place he left, sneering back into the gloom behind him with his usual insults that had ceased to sting even a little. Seraph slowly relaxed.

She slipped out into one of the actual rooms and went over to the window, the dusk only providing a little light but it should be enough for what she needed.

She pulled out the mask again and looked it over, picturing it on the Phantom's face. She made a pleased sound in the back of her throat and crept back down to where she had left the man.

She didn't see him as she first looked around and she felt a bubble of fear for him rise up into her stomach.

Closer inspection however, revealed him to be on the bed again. She wanted to leave the mask there next to him on the small table but she didn't dare get that close to him again. Instead she left it on the table that she used for eating whenever she was down here, near the icebox and food. He should find it easily enough there. She wasn't sure where she clothes had actually ended up but if he wanted them then he could bloody well look around for them himself.

Seraphina checked the food supply, making note of when she would need to bring more down for him and then retreated back to her world of dust.

After sitting around bored for what seemed like ages she decided to go up on the roof and see the stars. It had been too long since she had been up there at night and it always calmed her thoughts.

She was totally unsure what she should do about the man below her opera house and her uncle was being stranger then usual, most likely plotting to kill her. If he got to it before the masked stranger did.

Was it too much for a young woman to ask for some sane human companionship? She had been alone for so long.

When she reached the roof she climbed up onto one of the huge statues that graced the old building and arranged her blanket before cuddling up in the perfectly shaped place she had found years ago between the sheltering wings of a flying creature, probably a dragon of some sort.

She stared up at the glimmering night sky, allowing her eyes to drift closed, the words that seemed to always come to her slipping softly from her lips.

"_If everyone cared and nobody cried  
If everyone loved and nobody lied  
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride  
Then we'd see the day when nobody died_

_And I'm singing amen I'm alive  
Amen I, I'm alive_

_And in the air the fireflies  
Our only light in paradise  
We'll show the world they were wrong  
And teach them all to sing along_

_Singing Amen, I'm alive_

_  
And as we lie beneath the stars  
We realize how small we are  
If they could love like you and me  
Imagine what the world could be_

_If everyone cared and nobody cried  
If everyone loved and nobody lied  
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride  
Then we'd see the day when nobody died"_

A tear slid down her cheek again and she brushed it away impatiently, wincing as her fingers moved a little too roughly across her face. Where the handsome man she had been trying so hard to please and help, had struck her.

Finally, she drifted into sleep, lulled by the gentle sounds of the wind and of creatures of the night going about their tasks, Willow curled up with her.

* * *

Well. I have to admit, some of that was rather unexpected. Tell me what you all think of it so far and let me know of any improvements or additions I could make. Thank you so much for reading this.

Was this chapter too short? Too long?

Please


	4. Of Mice and Men

Well, my length for these chapters seems to be pretty consistent (and more or less the same as for all my other stories). I am open to ideas and suggestions and I would absolutely love to hear where you all think this is going ;)

The cats are patterned after my own precious kitties, though fun cat stories are welcome too.

I do not own the Phantom of the Opera or anything in it *sniffles * just my characters, cats, plot, and theatre.

Enjoy!  


* * *

Seraph woke up stiff and chilled in the middle of the night. She seemed to be sleeping a lot more than she normally did. Or maybe time was passing faster. Could another person here really make so much difference?

Thinking of people made her mind race back to her friend Amelia's warning about her uncle. She looked at the sky stretching far above her, the stars seeming distant and cold, staring down pitilessly at her. Funny how they seemed to change so much. At other times they looked close and caring, though still aloof.

There was still no hint of the coming dawn on the horizon. Seraph climbed down from her draconic perch and snatched her blanket, wrapping it around herself and shivering. It was too cold to sleep outside tonight.

Careful not to trip over any cats that might be around, she made her way back into her opera house, disappointed to find that it wasn't much warmer inside than it was out.

She could remember when she was little and the theatre was still in use, she could come inside, cold from playing outdoors and it would be warm and brightly lit, people bustling about merrily, singing, laughing, flirting. Living.

She stood there a moment, lost in her memories, but then she came crashing back down to earth with a jolt. The past was dead and there was no point getting depressed over it so she made her way down to her room in the utter dark, knowing her way by heart.

For a moment, her traitorous mind wondered if the man underneath her theatre harbored ghosts in his heart as well before she pushed that though aside. She didn't want to think about him, didn't want to have to question her sanity in letting him stay, even after he had proven that he was violent and didn't care if he hurt her. She wasn't ready to examine her soul that closely. Not yet at least. Someday she would have to, but not right now.

When she entered her room she found to her continuing disappointment that her fire had gone out from lack of tending and her bedroom was just as cold as everywhere else. She growled to herself slipped under the covers, not bothering to undress. The sooner she got warmed up, the better.

The theatre creaked oddly during the night and she was used to being awake at this hour. Indeed, she wasn't tired, just cold.

Lying in bed, futilely trying to get warm, she decided that it was pointless and got up again, fumbling her way to the fireplace.

After a while she managed to light it again, though it really didn't want to draft properly in the cold. Coughing from the smoke, she went to the kitchen to re-light the fire there too.

Soon her living area was well lit and warm and she had just begun to look for something to do with her time when she remembered the man. Gabriel was close but it still didn't quite fit him somehow, she hated not knowing his name.

Seraph looked around her happy-looking domain and frowned, displeased. It was lonely here. She would go see how the Phantom was faring.

On her way past she pet the cats that had somehow sensed the heat and come scurrying to their cozy warm spots on blankets and furniture by the fires.

Seraph was thoroughly cold again by the time she got down to the cavern, though she went the fastest way.

Biting her lip, she peaked out into the huge cave, searching for Gabriel. He was on the couch reading, his back to her, huddled in what appeared to be all the blankets down here, or close to it.

Her heart sunk at the sight and she imagined him hunting around for more blankets, his face pale, shivering in the sudden cold. It was always cold down here but it was much worse than usual.

Stepping silently out of her cover, she approached the man, stopping halfway.

'Hello' didn't seem quite right. 'How do you do' definitely didn't work; 'sorry I locked you down here in the cold' was closer, but still not quite. What did one say in a situation like this? While she was standing there pondering, the Phantom broke the silence.

"Are you just going to stand there or did you have a reason for coming?"

Seraph struggled not to take offence at his tone and wording.

"I- I came to see how you were doing. The poison might not have worn off all the way yet and-"

"I'm fine," he said, cutting her off.

Seraph trembled slightly and she told herself firmly that it was because she was cold. It had absolutely nothing to do with his reaction to her concern for him. What did she care if he totally rejected her, he was just a masked stranger whom she really should just throw out of her theatre. Unfortunately, she was pretty sure she couldn't lift him again, much less throw him. Especially not if he was awake.

She sighed. "Are you cold?"

"No." He replied with too long a pause.

Seraph marched over to him, her ire aroused now. "I don't care who you are, you do not lie to me. You _are_ cold." He was wearing the mask she'd left him and she tried very hard not to let her heart melt.

He looked rather bemused and Seraph's eyes narrowed.

"Get up, you're coming with me," she ordered him, afraid that he wouldn't listen to her. Goodness knew he certainly didn't have to do anything she said. He looked at her for a moment then got to his feet, leaving the blankets on the couch with the book.

Seraph looked at him nervously for a second, not sure that she had remembered him being so tall, and grabbed a blanket and the book off the couch.

She handed him the blanket and snatched a lantern, making her way to the passage. She was out of her mind. Absolutely bonkers. She deserved to be locked up in an insane asylum for this little stunt.

He didn't say a word as she led him up out of the cavern, telling him where not to step and where not to touch. She didn't point out all of them of course, just the most lethal ones that he was most likely to step on. He was very good at putting his feet exactly here she had stepped, which surprised her. She didn't think most people were that aware of their feet.

Seraph respected his silence though she wanted to pepper him with questions. She led him to her warm and brightly lit haven quietly.

She picked up a cat off an armchair and motioned the man to sit. He hesitated and looked around, studying the room carefully. Finally he sat and Seraphina put the cat on his lap and the book on the small table next to him. He appeared to be at a loss what to do with the cat. The small feline however, had no such qualms. It curled up, purring and contented on his lap and Seraph smiled at the young black cat. He had just a touch of white on one paw and was absolutely adorable.

"Meet Dash, I think he likes you. He's one of Willow's kittens."

The man didn't reply.

"Are you hungry?"

Nothing. Seraphina waited until it was obvious that he wasn't going to reply before walking to the kitchen in silence.

She might have wished for a more sociable houseguest but she would take what she could get.

After she had a pot of water boiling she stuck her head back into the room she used as a living room, smiling and hesitating as she saw that the man was hesitantly petting Dash, looking unsure.

"Tea or coffee?" She asked softly. The Phantom's hand jerked away from the cat that yowled in protest. The man's back pressed into the chair as he attempted to shift away from the creature on his lap. Seraph had to stifle a giggle and the Phantom glared at her.

"Sorry, he's a little demanding," she told him as she came over to rescue him from the small feline's evil clutches.

She scooped him up into her arms and placed a quick kiss on the kitten's nose, making him look greatly affronted and bat at her face. She shook her finger at Dash and he batted at that too.

"Play nice mister," Seraph scolded gently before loosing him on his sleeping mother with a devilish twinkle in her eyes.

Poor Willow was wide-awake in a moment and batted her kitten's ears crankily, looking very displeased.

"Coffee or tea?" Seraph repeated, still watching her cats, her eyes gentle as she looked upon her sole companions of the last four, almost five, years of her life.

"Either is fine. Thank you."

Seraphina kept her eyes fixed where they were and didn't turn to him, treating him like a shy cat.

"My pleasure." She responded and carefully made her way back to the kitchen, telling herself that she really should count that as an accomplishment.

She made tea and put together a tray with cups, creamer, and sugar and carried it out to the living room, setting it on the table with his book, removing a cat from the chair next to the one he was seated in and settling there herself. The ousted cat shot her an annoyed look, which Seraph ignored. Though, she probably would have stuck her tongue out at it if it weren't for the man sitting somewhat stiffly in the seat next to her.

Seraphina managed not to spill the tea as she poured some into both cups and asked him how he liked his.

He didn't answer so she fixed her own and sat back, leaving him to make his own.

Pumpkin and Spice, two of Willow's other kittens, jumped up into her lap and settled down comfortably, eyeing the stranger with suspicion.

Holding her cup in one hand, Seraph pet the kittens with her other hand, careful not to look up as the man slowly began to fix his tea to his liking. She did note, however, that he liked two lumps of sugar, all the while containing a self-satisfied smirk. _Now_ she had accomplished something.

* * *

After a while Seraphina decided she couldn't stand more silence. They were almost done with the pot of tea and she needed to show him around sometime, didn't she?

With an apology to the kittens, receiving forlorn looks from them and an unreadable one from the man, she moved them and got to her feet.

"Come, I'll show you around."

The man got to his feet and followed her as she went into the hallway.

"This is my room," she told him, motioning to the first door they came to on the right. She left the door closed. Directly across from it was another bedroom that she had kept clean and tidy just in case anyone had ever stopped by, which, strangely enough, had actually happened now. She opened the door. "And this can be your room if you'd like it."

The Phantom moved silently past her into the room, glancing back at her as she lingered in the doorway. For the briefest moment it occurred to her that she could keep him here if she really wanted to, ashamed of herself for even thinking it. She wouldn't cage a bird, much less a fellow human. Besides, that would destroy what little trust she had managed to gain.

He finished his short exploration and nodded. "Thank you."

Seraph beamed at him. "You're very welcome." She was rather pleased with her double meaning and his eyes darkened for a moment.

"Well, that is, I'm sorry to say, pretty much the tour. There's a refreshing room through that door," she said, indicating a door inside his room. "And I brought you in through the kitchen so… You've now seen my humble abode. The rest of the opera house is safe-ish to explore if you stay out of the passages, don't mind large rodents and other nasty creatures, and don't untie any ropes or do anything else that good sense prohibits."

The man nodded and Seraph realized that he probably already knew all this if he had come from a theatre of his own. She shrugged mentally.

"There's a tub, hot water, and there should be towels and soaps, let me know if there isn't. The bed should be fairly fresh; I aired it out… last month. There're books in the living room. Let me know if there's anything I've forgotten." She smiled shyly at him, hoping he would stay even after she had basically granted him freedom.

He studied her for a moment and it struck her how well the quarter mask suited him. He nodded once and closed the door softly.

Seraph wandered back to her own room then paused. The clothes she had found were still down below. With a heavy sigh she made her way down once more through the dungeons, which seemed rather black and despairing, plunging down into the prison that could easily contain her mind.

Shaking away her discouraging thoughts she continued down into the depths below her home.

When she reached the cavern she wanted to collapse into a heap on the bed and sleep. Maybe that was why she was sleeping more. Too many trips to, and from, the caverns and catacombs deep underground.

She gathered up the clothes and trudged back up again.

When she got to her room she really did collapse on the bed but didn't sleep yet. She sorted through the clothes again, picking out the ones that would look best on him, which she could do better now that she'd seen more of his face and for longer.

With that done, she crept to his door and tapped softly. There was no answer. She slipped inside, glancing around nervously. He was nowhere to be seen though, so she set the clothes on a chair near the bed where he would see them when, she stubbornly refused to think 'if', he came back.

She was turning to leave when the bathing-room door opened and he came out wearing only his trousers and mask, a towel draped around his neck and his hair wet and slicked back into place firmly. They both froze, startled, though the Phantom recovered first, not really seeming to care about his state of undress.

Seraph found she couldn't take her eyes off the stunning man. He turned to her with a questioning expression and she blushed, dropping her eyes to the floor and leaving the room quickly.

* * *

He stared after her for a moment then closed the door gently behind her. He turned and scanned the room, his eyes falling on the pile of fabric on the chair. He took the top piece and held it up.

She'd brought him clothes. He sifted through the other items there and found she'd been thorough. That must have been where she was when he had looked for her. He hadn't thought she could be that silent for that long. Erik knew how truly bad of an idea it was to start being concerned about another person but he didn't know if there was anything he could do to stop himself.

* * *

He had looked even more dashing with his face freshly shaven. She really hadn't thought about what she would do if he hadn't been… decent. Not that she'd minded but…

She was beginning to get an idea what life would be like if he stayed. She hoped she hadn't offended him or anything by barging in like that. She collapsed on her bed, holding her face in her hands, but all she could get out of her tired mind was images of the Phantom's well-formed chest.

With a small cry of frustration and a cacophony of other emotions, she flopped back onto the bed and buried her face in a pillow. Finally she fell into a light slumber.

Seraphina awoke to the sound of a voice, a beautiful voice singing softly in another room. She got up, wondering if she was still dreaming, and went out into the hall. The voice was coming from the kitchen and it was a sorrowful song indeed that he was singing. Her heart cried out as he suddenly stopped.

Seraph leaned against the doorframe, resting her head on the cool surface.

"That was beautiful," she whispered to the Phantom. All she got in return was another level, unreadable look. Seraph closed her eyes.

"Can I help you find anything…?" She inquired, trying not to be disappointed by his lack of response.

"No, thank you for the thought."

Seraph smiled, "It's no trouble at all." There was a muffled mew at her feet and she opened her eyes, crouching down. Spice, the ginger colored kitten was there, so proud of herself, a still mouse in her jaws.

"Such a good kitten you are love, good girl." Seraphina said, petting the cat affectionately. She had long since gotten used to the cats bringing her grisly presents, so long as they kept them on the floor and not on her pillow or something.

"Now run along and go play with you siblings. Maybe you should see if your mum wants that, hmm?" She refused to feel awkward talking to her cats in front of the man; he'd probably seen stranger things anyway.

Seraph stood upright again, somewhat stiffly and Spice trotted off happily to share her catch. Dusting off her skirt, she was a little startled to hear the man speak.

"Why did you lie to me?"

She looked at him blankly. "Beg pardon?"

One hand slashed impatiently through the air. "Your family. You live here alone, why did you lie?"

Seraph swallowed. "Well, I- if some random fellow turned up in _your_ abandoned opera house and wanted to wear a mask all the time would you really share that it was just the two of you there?"

He was silent.

"Look, its too early for this, we can talk later." She hesitated, "An by that I actually mean talk, not just 'I'll-blabber-on-and-on-while-you-sit-there-silently'."

"It's mid-morning."

Seraph blinked stupidly at him for a moment before registering what he had said. "Oh. Is it really?" She glanced at the clock. "I suppose it is. Far to early to be up…" She muttered to under her breath, greatly pleased with herself when what could have almost been a smile passed across his face, though it was gone again almost a quickly as it had come.

* * *

By the way, does anyone know Erik's preferred beverage? And should I put in more songs (maybe find one for each chapter?) or is it okay without much music?

Don't forget to press that little button, right there. Yes that one. The one that says 'Review this story/chapter' *nods * Yep.

They make me happy and write faster…

Please


	5. Comforting legalities

Sorry this one's short, I'm going through a bit of writers block so… Reviews make me happy and I could use all of that I can get so tell me what you all think :)

Thank you so much Phantom-Phan and Phantom's-only-Christine for reviewing the last chapter, you guys are great.

I'm fairly certain this is terrible so you guys have to assure me that its not (or tell me it is, I don't care) ;]

Would it be too soon for Erik to trust her with his name?

Enjoy!

* * *

Seraph went back to her room to bathe and put on clean clothes, all right with leaving the man to his own devises for a while.

She looked at her face in the mirror above her desk and frowned, touching her cheek. There was still a mark where his hand had connected with her face. With a sigh, she went into her own bathing-room and ran the tub full of hot water, selecting the soap she wanted to use this time from her extensive collection.

After she was clean and dressed she went back out to see what the Phantom had found to keep himself occupied.

He wasn't in either the living room or the kitchen and he didn't respond when she knocked on his door. Seraph bit her lip and decided to risk another awkward encounter. She opened his door silently, her gaze sweeping through the room quickly and she found herself quite alone.

It was harder than she would have first thought to deal with the sudden stab of sorrow and pain. He had left her. She was alone again.

Walking over to the bed, which would now forever be his, at least in her mind, she sat down on the edge, dropping her face into her hands. When she looked up again she saw something that glimmered on the bedside table. Reaching for it, she hesitated for a moment. It was his and if it was here then he might come back. He guarded his secrets carefully and he wouldn't be happy with her for touching the ring, much less being in his room in the first place.

But if she was careful then he would never know. She picked up the ring, looking at it closely. It resembled a flower of some sort, though she wasn't sure what kind. Most of it consisted of light blue crystals and it was definitely a woman's ring.

She stared at it, resting there on her palm, wondering what it meant to the masked Phantom. She put it back exactly where it had been and got to her feet. She would go and look for him, see if he was still here after all.

Turning towards the door, she froze. The Phantom was standing in the open doorway, his gaze firmly locked on the spot where she had been sitting.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

He didn't respond.

"I thought you'd left," she whispered, her lower lip trembling. There were too many emotions to deal with when other people were involved in her life and she wasn't used to it.

He met her gaze firmly and she flinched slightly. His expression was as unreadable as ever but his eyes were pained and she thought she could see a tear forming at the corner of one eye, though it was difficult to tell in the dim lighting. _Someday,_ she thought absently, _I should move to a section with windows…_

Seraph was going to move past him and leave his room but something made her hesitate. Without thinking, she allowed her arms to slip around his waist as she hugged him.

The man tensed and she quickly withdrew, her face coloring. She mentally kicked herself for doing that.

"S-sorry, I-"

He cut her off, grabbing her upper arm and pulling her against him again. His arms closed around her and she hesitantly put her arms around him as well as he rested his cheek on top of her head.

Seraph didn't dare to move or speak lest she break the spell that held everything in their world still and quiet. His breathing was slightly uneven and she could tell he was restraining himself from holding her tighter than he was.

After a few moments though, she carefully turned her head, resting her face gently against his shoulder, feeling strangely content in his arms.

Neither was sure how long they stood like that, simply glad to be held, but Erik knew that at some point she would remember who he was and pull away in fear.

He removed his arms from around her and stepped away, instantly missing her warm, soft form. He turned away, touching his fingers to his mask, reminding himself of why he would never be loved, loathsome gargoyle that he was.

After a moment he heard the telltale signs of her leaving, the rustling of fabric and the soft sound of her footfalls retreating until there was silence once more.

* * *

Seraph closed the door to her own room soundlessly, still in somewhat of a daze. He had hugged her, held her close. Absolutely amazing.

With a sigh she brought herself back down to earth. Her uncle was planning ways to kill her. What would be the best ways for someone to accomplish that?

Well, if he had somehow been behind the arrival of the Opera Ghost than she was already as good as dead so she didn't need to worry about that.

Poison in either her food or her water but she used the water from the reserves under the opera house, therefore he couldn't taint that and she always used various disguises when she went out for food and to different places each time with no set pattern. That pretty much ruled both of those out then.

He would either have to come in and kill her physically or… Fire.

He could burn her out. Though, she reasoned, she would be able to retreat underground easily enough. Perhaps she should make very sure that she could live down there.

The Phantom would be able to help her with that since he knew what it was like and therefore what was essential. There was plenty of room too, for both of them.

If her uncle did burn down her theatre then she would be presumed dead. No one else knew about the underground passages and hallways, much less the cavern. She needed a will.

Amelia's older brother Adam was a lawyer, she would go see him.

Going over to her wardrobe, she carefully selected her costume for this outing. She would be a middle-aged widow, a long black dress hiding her from neck to toe, a scarf and veil covering the rest of her.

She chose a simple gold ring from her box of jewelry that she had found over the years and slipped it onto her finger.

As she passed his closed door on her way out, Seraph contemplated telling him that she was going out but decided against it. She would tell him later when they were having that talk. They needed one.

The passage she went out was not one that she used a lot and it exited into a shed a little way from the theatre itself but still owned by her. Dusting off her clothes, she pushed out into the bright day awaiting her, heading towards Adam's shop. Amelia kept her aware of the family whenever they had time to talk since Seraph never had any news to share except which cats had had kittens lately.

* * *

Seraph was pleased to find Adam's workplace open and his secretary said that he was available so she went up to his office. She closed the door behind her and he looked up with a warm smile.

"How may I help you madam?"

"I'm here to write up a will."

"Ah, I see. Have a seat, I'll be done with this in one" he paused, writing something on the paper in front of him, "moment. There." He set aside his pen and pushed the paper away to the corner of the desk.

"What sort of will can I help you with?" His gaze was sure and confidant, reassuring Seraph that she had indeed come to the right place for this, though she wondered how he would react when he heard what she wanted.

"I've been sent by another person to make her will for her. Perhaps you remember her? I believe her and her parents used to be quite familiar with your family. Seraphina Bellerose?"

Adam blinked several times before recovering. "I see. Are you related to her or a good friend?"

Seraph nodded. "I'm a good friend _and_ related." She nodded in such a way that a strand of her distinctive red hair slipped from under the scarf coving the rest of it. No one else in her family had red hair.

Adam hesitated. "Alright," he said slowly, "I'll probably get into trouble for this but I think that just this once I can let it slip by. Normally I can't allow anyone but the person themselves to write the will but I think an exception in this particular case shouldn't hurt anyone." He peered at her face, still hidden under her black veil. "What should I call you?"

"Madam Chaput, if you please." Seraph replied with a smile. She'd hoped she could count on him to remember her and know enough about her situation to help her.

"My, you've changed since I last saw you. Apparently you've been married and your husband died in the past four years. It's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you as well. I hear I'm not the most popular member of my family though."

Adam leaned back in his chair. "Yes, Amelia said she'd seen y- er, Seraphina. I think it's a brilliant idea of her to write a will."

"Ah, yes, back to business. Seraphina wishes to leave everything she owns to your family should anything happen to her, with the understanding that none of it will fall into her uncle's hands."

Adam stared at her. "Are you- is she quite sure that's what she wants?"

Seraph nodded. "Yes. She said to tell you that your family has been the only one to continually support her through her trials and as such you are also her dearest friends. She would like nothing better than to know that her theatre and assets will be well taken care of if- should any untimely death befall her. She'd like the money to be used to repair the opera house if at all possible."

"We'd be honored and yes, that should be quite possible. Is that all?"

Seraph nodded.

"Very well. Er, I'll get right to work on that. Can you ask Seraphina to come tomorrow and sign it?"

"Absolutely. Thank you so much, Adam."

"It's no problem at all. Be careful, madam Chaput."

Seraph turned in the doorway and smiled at him. "I will be. You as well."

And with that she was gone, heading back through the streets in the general direction of the dilapidated theatre.

* * *

Erik listened for further signs of movement after she passed his door but there was nothing. He shouldn't have touched her like that, but seeing her sitting there, soft and feminine, studying Christine's ring, had been too much and when she had combined his raw feelings with her gentle hug…

If she avoided him he would apologize and they could act as though it had never happened. He wouldn't be scared again, not so soon after Christine.

He took off his mask and looked at it, turning it over in his hands. Seraph had made it for him, even though he had done his best to keep her away. He hadn't wanted contact with anyone and had thought he might have found a place to start over with this old theatre but instead he had found a girl as alone as he had been.

* * *

After stopping at various stores for food and a few other things she finally was back home. She picked her way gingerly back through her passages, laden with bags. She reached the entrance in the living room and paused when the Phantom looked up, his expression shifting, though she couldn't tell what it had changed from or too.

He rose and walked over to her, taking a few of the bags and following her into the kitchen with them.

"Thank you," Seraph said with a smile, setting the remainder of the sacks on the table and pulling out the things that needed to go into the icebox.

The man, she found she couldn't really think of him as Gabriel after all, leaned against the counter and watched her in silence.

After a while though, he said, "You should have told me you were going out."

Seraph looked up, surprised. "Oh, do you need something? I can go back-"

He shook his head impatiently and her expression turned thoughtful.

"You thought I left because you were too forward…" She said softly. It had never crossed her mind to think about why he wouldn't think she had left.

He didn't respond but that was all right.

"You were too forward but I initiated it and I truly didn't mind it at all. It's not as though society's watching us anyway. No, I didn't leave because of you. Did you eat lunch?"

The Phantom nodded.

"Alright, good. Would this be an okay time to talk?"

"As good as any other." The man said, pulling out a chair and motioning for her to sit.

Seraph blushed slightly and did so. She had grown used to having to everything herself and having him here reminded her of what her place would have been if things hadn't gone as they had. She probably seemed very strange to him and terribly unladylike.

He sat across from her silently. She waited for a few moments but he didn't speak.

"I think I should tell you some things about what's going on. My parents died five years ago and I've lived here for almost that long. When they died my parents left everything to me, despite the fact that I was only eleven at the time, which deeply offended my uncle.

He and my father had never been close and I suspect that he was responsible for their deaths. He's been sniffing around my affairs as of late so today I went out to have my will drawn up. The only way I can think of for him to kill me is by fire, so if you would help me make the caves more habitable just in case I would be very grateful. But I would understand if you left."

Seraph looked down at her hands in her lap and pressed them against her thighs to ease their trembling. It had been hard to get all that out and she hated the thought of being alone again, much less having everyone think she was dead. It might well be better not to escape the fire.

There was silence for several minutes, broken only by the crackling of the fire, which he must have put more wood in. Seraph would be glad when this cold snap was over and things warmed up again.

"We'll definitely need more blankets." He said, startling her. She looked up at him, his words sinking in slowly. Her eyes filled with tears and she smiled, giddy with relief.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She cried, wanting to throw her arms around him again but there was a table between them so she didn't.

The Phantom shrugged. "When should we expect this uncle of yours?"

"I-I honestly have no idea." Seraph said, her happiness fading along with her smile.

The man got to his feet, looking down at her, his expression in its usual state of readability, or lack thereof.

"Come, we should get started."

Seraph nodded and stood. "What all will we need? Another bed, blankets, more food, the rest of the books…" She stopped, unsure what else to add.

"Candles, paper and writing implements, clothes, whatever things you might need for your hobbies, wood and scraps of other materials. And that just as a start."

Seraph nodded. "Most of those things will be down by the stage. I'll get the extra blankets and show you where we can put the things to take down."

After fetching the blankets, Seraph led the Phantom to a hidden room with a staircase spiraling down, the center of the room a gaping hole into the blackness below, protected by a waist high stone wall.

"It goes down to the floor. We can lower the things with ropes, one of us up here and one below then take it piece by piece from there."

Erik nodded. There had been a somewhat similar place in his theatre, though on a much larger scale than this.

She set the blankets down on the floor. "Uh, if you need to go down the stairs for some reason, walk right along the inside railing."

Again, it was similar to his own opera house and he nodded.

Returning to the main area backstage, Seraph set about finding all the candles she could, leaving the Opera Ghost to search for other things.

* * *

Well, what do y'all think? Critisism is always welcomed as are reviews containing adoration…

And if any little plot ideas came to anyone's mind as they were reading and they felt inclined to share I could probably update sooner.

Please


	6. Trust, Secrets, and Death

Aw I love you guys. Lots of thank yous this time…

Phantom's-Only-Christine, Phantom-Phan442, Chocoborider92, and Cristy201 reviewed the last chapter; you guys all made me smile.

Silentm00n reviewed a couple chappies too in the interval, thank you for that.

Phantom-Phan442: Yeah, that's what I was thinking as far as the name thing went too. Thank you so much for the great idea of him finding her diary, I'm totally using that one. (And btw, I love your little signature thing. 'I remain, your obedient servant…' Aw Erik's awesome.)

Cristy201: I decided we did need some more action so this chapter sort of gets into that a little more. It's way too soon to have the story end, but yes, the battling idea was good too.

You'll all have to tell me what you think and what I can improve on :)

I am so tempted right now to say that I remain your obedient servant… but I won't. You'll just have to pretend that I did ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

Erik watched Seraph for a few minutes, noting that she was looking for candles. He looked around, deciding to find scrap materials and books.

He opened several of the large crates scattered around. They were filled with props and stage decorations. Rolling up his sleeves, he got to work.

Hours later he uncovered leather bound book with a gold embossed bird on the cover. It was in a dark corner, open on the floor facedown as though it had been thrown there. It was a little less dusty than the other old articles around it so it caught his eye. He picked it up and turned it over, leafing to the first page. Its pages were filled with slender, delicate handwriting, obviously from a female hand. His interest piqued, he read the first entry of the diary, for he soon realized that's what it was.

_ April 5__th__, 1866._

_ Well, here I am, starting in a new Diary. I'll miss my last one, I liked it a lot, but you should be okay too._

_ To start I'll introduce myself. My name is Seraphina Bellerose and I'm ten at the moment, though my eleventh birthday is in only four days __ away. I'm very excited. Mother says that I can have a party with my friends down in the park now that it's starting to be warmer._

_ On a less happy note, Uncle visited again today. Mother wouldn't let me near him to say hello or anything. I think he might have been drunk. He  
and Father were talking and he started to yell and his face got all red and blotchy. Father yelled back at him and a little while later Uncle left, still  
quite angry._

_ I'm frightened. Mother and Father have been talking in hushed whispers with each other since and they sent me to bed right after dinner, even  
though it's three hours before my bedtime. I don't know what the argument was about but it was nothing good, that's for sure._

_ The cook tells me I should be a good little girl and go to sleep now but I don't want to. It's still way to early and I know I shant be able to sleep._

It was Seraph's diary. Erik glanced around for the girl but didn't see her. He turned the page.

_ April 7__th__, 1866_

_ Mother and Father died yesterday. The police won't tell me how they died but I heard a man on the street say that they were run down on the  
street by a carriage. They tried to run, indicating that they probably recognized the person or people inside. They dodged and ran but the carriage  
kept swerving too, following them._

_ They were run down and murdered. I overheard the officials talking about the funeral. The coffins will be closed and that tells me that their bodies  
were mauled pretty badly._

_ No one was able to stop the carriage that killed them or were paid off not to try. No one spoke up that they recognized it or the persons inside it._

_ I've been trying my very hardest not to cry because I know that my parents wouldn't want me to loose myself in grief._

_ This afternoon a lawyer came to the house and the cook tried to turn him away but I stopped her._

_ I have inherited everything._

_ The operas have stopped now and all the performers gave me strange looks when I went there today. I tried to convince them to stay but they  
wouldn't._

_ The funeral will be in two days time on April ninth. No one remembers._

There were smudges in the ink and what looked to be places where tears had fallen from the writer's eyes onto the page. He closed the book and tucked it into his waistcoat for later reading.

* * *

Seraph trotted upstairs after finding several armloads of candles to haul down her book collections. She had found several small crates that shouldn't be too heavy for her to carry even loaded with books.

Taking one up with her she knelt in front of the first of her shelves and began to put books into the box.

She soon had that one filled and carried it down to the room with the staircase before getting another box.

She paused and listened carefully for a hint of where the Phantom might be. She would have called to him but she still didn't know his name and she wasn't going to call out 'Phantom' or 'Opera Ghost', thank you anyway.

She heard a rustle and then a thud from backstage so she went that way, peering around into the shadows carefully.

Rounding a corner, she was grabbed from behind, a hand pressed over her mouth. She struggled and tried to scream but she recognized the Phantom's voice in her ear.

"Silence, I won't harm you."

She stopped struggling but didn't relax, not yet.

"There's three men here and it doesn't seem as though they know you, or they might be more gentle with your things."

Seraph nodded but the man didn't take his hand off her mouth.

"We can't let them continue."

Again, Seraph nodded.

"Go upstairs. I'll come get you when they're gone." He pushed her away and in the general direction of the stairs.

"But-"

"Go." His eyes were cold. After hesitating for a moment longer, she obeyed his command, turning and going upstairs. She waited for him in the kitchen, watching the carvings. They would tell her when any of the exterior doors opened.

It was quite some time before she could make out any sounds emanating from below and then it was a hoarse cry of fright.

Seraph was on her feet in an instant and at the door but she hesitated. He had told her to come upstairs and wait for him.

* * *

Erik picked up a rope and knotted it with a practiced movement, watching from the shadow until one of them ventured too far away from the other two.

When one did, he crept up behind him and, just as the other man was about to smash a hammer into one of the crates, Erik slipped the rope around his neck and pulled it tight. The man released a muffled, strangled cry and Erik held the noose tight until the man fell to the floor unconscious.

One down.

Finding another rope quickly, he moved toward the other two, as silent as a ghost.

As soon as a moment presented itself he pulled the rope tight around the second man's neck. Again, he dropped the man to the floor without killing him. Yet.

The last man called to his friends.

"Hey where are you? This isn't funny!"

"No, it isn't" Erik replied, dropping anther noose around his throat.

The man's eyes widened and he cried out in sudden fear as the rope pulled tight.

"Why are you here?" The Opera Ghost growled.

"P-p-please, we didn't- we- a man paid us to be here. He hired us t-to look around a bit and maybe wreck some stuff, honest!"

"Describe this man." The Phantom's voice was low and frightening.

"H-he's fairly short. Balding, grayish hair. Plump, he's plump. Brown eyes."

There was a sharp intake of air behind him and the Phantom turned, still holding the man in front of him.

Seraph stood on the stairs, her eyes wide and her lips parted.

"I told you to go upstairs." Erik growled. Seraph ignored him. She walked down the stairs until she stood in front of the man being held in place by the Phantom's noose.

"I recognize you. George. You're the cobbler's cousin."

The man swallowed and nodded. "I am. I-I'm sorry, you're family was good to us but- I've been out of work and he paid well…"

Seraph slapped him. "So you thought to vandalize what little I have left in life? He's evil and a murderer, how could you stand to work for him?"

The young woman turned away, trembling. Neither man could tell whether it was from anger or tears.

"We can't let him go." Erik stated.

Seraph nodded. "I know." Her voice was rough with emotion.

"No, please don't-" The man stopped talking abruptly as the rope tightened further, cutting off his air.

Seraph turned around. "No! You can't kill him Gabriel!"

"We have to."

"No, we don't! We're better than that."

"Then what are we going to do with them?" The Phantom asked, his voice and eyes hard.

The girl seemed to deflate. "I-I don't know," she said softly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

The man fell unconscious and Erik let him slid to the floor. Seraph's eyes widened in horror, thinking the man dead and her gaze slowly moved from the limp body to Erik, still holding the end of the rope.

The fear and horror on her face felt like a knife in his heart. The Phantom cursed himself for letting her affect him so much. Had he not learned anything?

Seraph hesitated, torn between wanting to go to her Phantom and fleeing the scene of the murder. His eyes were cold and unfeeling as he stood there with the body at his feet. She couldn't even think of being near him right now, so she turned and fled back upstairs.

Only much later would she realize she had referred to him as _her_ Phantom.

* * *

Erik watched her go and then looked down at the unconscious man, restraining the urge to kick him. Barely.

The other two men hadn't seen anyone so he would dump them in an alley with a warning. It was unlikely that they would come back.

He wasn't sure what to do with this man though. Seraph didn't want him to be killed, though she already thought he had killed him so what did it even matter?

He supposed he could give the man a concussion and hope he forgot what had transpired but there was no way to be sure he would forget. It would be best to kill him. Second to that would be locking him up somewhere but then what did you do with him?

Erik sighed and left the one man where he lay, going to dispose of the other two.

* * *

She flung herself onto her bed, hating the tears that wanted to come. She would not cry, not again. She had had enough tears to last her the rest of her life and definitely wouldn't cry at the loss of never having to shed another tear.

Seraph smiled wryly to herself as that voice in the back of her mind whispered that her current situation was vaguely amusing. There was always something funny about everything; you just had to have clear enough of eyes to be able to see it.

Here she was, alone in an opera house with a murderer as her sole human companion. He was such a contradiction, it made him utterly fascinating. He went from cold to warm, from worrying about where she had gone to killing a man in cold blood.

He was beautiful and terrifying, brutal and yet gentle.

Seraph sighed. She didn't know what to do. If there was anyone else there to counsel her they would say to either make him leave or go herself. Talk to the police maybe.

But if she left her uncle might very well take the opportunity to kill her and what good would that do anyone? Excepting, of course, her uncle, though it actually wouldn't as she had written a will.

Which didn't go into effect until she signed it tomorrow.

Closing her eyes, she forced all thoughts out of her head. She needed to clear everything out so she could think. There was too much, the world was too much. But death was for cowards and she would never be accused of that.

* * *

George woke up with a start as water was splashed in his face. He gasped at the sudden shock and tried to blink the water out of his eyes.

Suddenly a ghostly specter appeared right in front of him, a cold face, half hidden by a mask. In the dim light he would have sworn it was a demon sent up from hell itself.

"Never speak of what happened at the theatre to _anyone_ if you wish your daughters to live to ripe old age." The demon snarled.

George tried to scramble away but his legs wouldn't move. "I-I-I w-won't ever s-say a word, I s-swear! P-please d-don't hurt t-them. Don't k-kill me!"

The demon nodded once and the world went black again as something collided with George's head.

* * *

After dealing with the three men, Erik went back upstairs. Seraph wouldn't want to see him again so after pausing for only the briefest of moments at her door, he went into his own room and lit several candles.

With nothing better to do, he sat down on the bed and pulled out Seraph's diary again. She had taken off his mask, repeatedly, so it was his right to read her journal.

_ April 8__th__, 1866_

_ Amelia and her mother came to see me today, which was very nice. No one else has visited._

_ Uncle killed them, I'm sure of it but the police won't listen to me._

_ City officials and lawyers came today as well. They say that I'm not old enough to own anything much less and house and a theatre._

_ I told them to leave but they didn't. They weren't listening to me so I said that I would sell one of my buildings. That made them happy and they  
left. They think I'll sell the theatre but I won't. There's something special about that place, something magical. I won't give it up. And besides, I  
know Uncle was always bitter about Father getting the opera house instead of him when grandfather died. I won't sell it, I don't care if they kill me  
too, its mine._

_ There are too many ghosts here. Every time I look somewhere I can see Mother or Father standing there, smiling, laughing. It was always so  
happy here and that's how I want to remember it, not as this empty shell that was once a home._

_ After the funeral I will put this place on the market and sell it. I'll move into MY opera house and live there instead._

_ I've already overheard the staff talking amongst themselves. They don't want to leave me by myself but they won't continue working for me.  
They're afraid of my Uncle._

_ I must try to get some sleep, the funeral is tomorrow._

Erik turned the page thoughtfully, trying to maintain his distance from the girl. Why did it feel as though he was loosing the battle?

_ April 9__th__, 1866_

_ It went as well as one could have expected today. It was a bright day, the birds were singing and the flowers opened to bask in the sun. I wanted to  
scream and pull at my hair. I wanted to cry and bite and kick. But I didn't._

_ Instead I watched in silence as my Mother and Father were put in the ground._

_ Afterward the house staff said their goodbyes to me and began packing their bags. I didn't say a word._

_ After the lawyer came like I had asked, I had him draw up the papers to sell this empty shell that I loathe so much. This empty shell where there  
was once a loving family._

_ He looked at me funny so I glared at him. He didn't object, probably because he could tell I wanted an excuse to claw someone's eyes out._

_ Life hates me. Happy birthday._

_ April 10__th__, 1866 _

_ I'm ready to leave. They've boarded up most of the windows at my theatre but that's all right. I never want to see the sun again anyway._

_ I packed up everything I wanted and hired people to carry it to my new home._

_ I had the bankers move Mother and Father's money to my account to be sure that no one but me could access it. They gave my pitying looks. I  
don't need their useless pity. I'll be fine._

_ It's dark and gloomy here and it suits my mood. I noticed a strange draft of air from one wall and I found a hidden doorway. I wanted to follow it  
tonight instead of trying futilely to sleep but I think I'll face the nightmares for a while first._

_ It has been a long few days._

_ April 12__th__, 1866 _

_ I will not cry. My life has become lonely, consisting only of the darkness, the tears, and myself. I hate crying and I _will not_ continue to let them  
cripple me. I have to be strong. I am sorry to have missed a day of this but I've had a lot to do, what with getting settled in and all. I also need to  
learn to build a fire because it's very cold. I've never lit a fire before, but thankfully I've watched plenty of times. I tried earlier but my hand slipped  
with the flint and steel. I cut my hand and then I got burned after I finally did get a small blaze going. It is so much harder than it looks and you __ have to keep feeding it or it goes out, which mine did anyway._

_ My hand hurts and I'm finding it difficult to write. I did go into the hidden hallways today with some candles but I had to be very careful that I didn't  
get lost. There are all sorts of traps too so I think I'll wait a few days before going back so my hand might be a bit better. I plan to write down  
everything I find down in the darkness below _my_ opera house and give detailed explanations of all the traps I find. I will have to come up with a way  
for people I like (namely Amelia and her family) to be able to find it without my uncle getting to it first. That way if I die or get hurt in my  
explorations perhaps someone will find me._

_ That is all I can write tonight, for I am tired and, as I have already said, my hand hurts. Maybe I have some books on medicine._

He closed the book. There was more but he would continue another time. He removed his shoes and stretched out on the bed, thinking.

* * *

It wouldn't bloody let me format her diary stuff like I bleeding well wanted to! I didn't _want_ to center it, I wanted to _indent_ it, but no.

Ah, anywho, sorry 'bout the little tirade there... How was it? Thoughts?

Please


	7. In a world so cold

Here's the next chapter :) be sure to tell me what you all think of it. Reviews make me happy and give me ideas therefore causing me to write much faster.

Any ideas are always welcome and I'll cherish you forever if you give me one (who knows, I might even share Erik…) *gasp* I don't know if you've all already heard about this or not but apparently Andrew Lloyd Webber (yes, THAT Andrew Lloyd Webber [!]) has written a sequel to The Phantom of the Opera!!! I know!!! I think I recall that it opens on Broadway in New York on November 11th 2010. (THIS YEAR!!!) There's a Wikipedia page for it and the title is apparently going to be Love Never Dies *squeaks*

Yeah, so I really, really want to go to New York now… After November 11th obviously… *le sigh*

Anyway, that was a vaguely random tangent, though you have to admit, it's not totally random.

I very, very sadly do not own Erik or anything else for the Phantom of the Opera, just Seraph and my other characters, the plot, my theatre, my cats, etc.

(This is a long authors note, sorry) Huge thank yous and some cookies to Chocoborider92, WhySoSiriusBlack45, 13Saphire13, Phantom's-Only-Christine, Cristy201, and Yakira-Kuchiki for their wonderful reviews, you guys have really made me happy which I really, really needed last week (and this one too…).

Phantom-Phan442 has epically reviewed the last chapter three times so far (you're awesome, I just have to say) and she went over this chapter searching for errors and stuff before I posted it, so I owe her a big plate of cookies and my gratitude.

The song is World So Cold by 12 Stones and I don't own it either…

Anyway, I think I'm done being boring now, so

Enjoy!

* * *

It was late morning when Seraph ventured out of her room again, doing her best to avoid the man. She really didn't know how to deal with him anymore. He was a murderer.

Mindful of his comment to her about not leaving without telling him, she wrote a note and placed it on the table, not wanting to risk his formidable wrath.

Willow mewed demandingly at her feet and she picked the cat up. Willow pushed away, her disdainful expression informing Seraph that she had grossly misinterpreted the feline's intentions.

With a sigh, Seraph released the cat, wincing slightly as she pushed off her chest with uncomfortably sharp claws as she leapt to the floor.

Seraph's eyes followed the cat as she trotted over to the door and twined eagerly around a silent pair of black leather boots. Willow purred and mewed for attention, gazing up at the man with adoration.

Seraph felt herself begin to sulk, though she didn't really make any attempt to stop herself. Without looking at anything more than his boots, she turned away and slipped through the hidden door to the passages beyond, tucking her scarf firmly around her hair as she did so.

There wasn't even the barest whisper of sound in the room she had just left, and she wondered for a moment if he had really been there at all.

Clearing her mind of all thoughts of the murderer that had found his way through the carefully constructed maze around her heart, she turned her attention to her surroundings and the task ahead of her.

It should be fairly simple to get to the office where Adam worked, sign the document, and get back to her theatre again.

When she exited the passages into the street, Seraph looked around carefully, making sure no one seemed to notice her sudden appearance out of the "abandoned opera house," as people referred to it. There was no sign anyone noticed anything out of the ordinary and Seraph relaxed slightly. She hated coming out too often and she had never left twice in two days before this. But at this point she really had little choice in the matter.

She casually drifted in the direction she was going, pausing to look at things in store windows as they caught her interest. She took pains to slow her steps and look as though she was merely out for a stroll. People often remembered seeing other people pass by if they had been in a hurry and they speculated as to where the rushing person was headed. Rumors had an unpleasant habit of getting back to her Uncle.

Eventually, she arrived at the building where Adam worked. Again, the secretary told her that Adam was available, so Seraph went up to his office. After knocking, she opened the door and slipped inside.

Adam looked up and smiled. Her face was visible today, though she had cleverly used makeup to make herself appear older than she was.

"Seraphina, welcome. I have it all ready for you. Are you absolutely sure that you want to leave my family all your inheritance?"

"Yes, I am. I already told you, you've all been kind to me, more so than anyone else. Though it does trouble me to leave you the problem of my Uncle. Perhaps though when I am gone your father will be able to talk some sense into the city council."

Adam nodded. "We really are terrible sorry with how that whole fiasco turned out."

"No, it's not your fault and it was years ago. I'm past it now."

Adam just looked at her and for some reason her traitorous mind dredged up the feelings from four, almost five years ago.

"How are you doing there? Is it lone-" Adam stopped himself, unsure whether he should really be prying or not.

"Yeah, it's lonely but I have the cats to keep me company so it's okay."

Clearing his throat, Adam pushed a document and a pen across the desk to her.

"You can read it through if you want and them just sign at the bottom if everything is to your liking."

Seraph nodded and picked up the paper, skimming through it. After a few minutes she was satisfied and signed her name with a flourish that had been born of too much time alone in a place formerly filled with great amounts of drama, both on stage and off.

After biding farewell to Adam, she made her way painfully slowly, or so it seemed to her, back home. She decided that she wouldn't risk going back in the same way she had come out, but rather slip through the alley passage.

* * *

She entered the alley, wrinkling her nose at the nasty smell that assaulted her senses and was halfway to the hidden door when suddenly there was a sound behind her. She turned, but it was too late.

The man grabbed her and pressed a knife to her throat while the other quickly gagged her. Seraph struggled and fought but this only amused the two men.

"He said she'd be feisty. What do ya say we, ah," the taller of the two men licked his lips before continuing, "have a little fun before we take care of her, eh?"

The man holding Seraph laughed and ground his hips against her backside crudely. Seraph's eyes widened as she realized what they intended to do to her and her struggles renewed.

The taller man leered at her and drew his knife. "'Old her still."

The man holding Seraph complied, tightening his grip painfully. The knife slashed through her bodice and Seraph closed her eyes, not wanting any part of the horrors about to unfold. There was a sickly wet sound and a crack. A heavy thud as something hit the stones of the alley. The man's grip on her loosened and something hot, wet, and sticky ran down her back. The arms around her went limp and released her.

Seraph opened her eyes and swayed, her head getting light as she saw the bodies of her attackers on the ground. There was blood pooling around them and she was covered in it. The man who had been holding her had had his throat cut and she realized with revulsion that the sticky fluid was blood. A moment later it registered that the attacker was now behind her. Her vision went gray and she felt herself falling. She was unconscious before she hit the ground.

* * *

Seraph came to in total darkness and wondered if it had all been a dream somehow. Slowly she became aware that she was cradled against a man's chest. That meant that it probably hadn't been a dream.

Seraph struggled feebly in her captor's strong arms but he didn't break his even, carefully measured stride. There was something mesmerizing in the way the man walked, each movement precise, planned, and carefully measured. Ceasing her struggling, Seraph took a deep breath. Past the smell of blood she thought she could detect a familiar odor.

Taking another breath, she concentrated. Yes, it was a pleasant smell and it reminded her of leather and darkness, of man and mystery. Gabriel.

Seraph sobbed with relief and put her arms around his neck abruptly. His steps faltered, even as Seraph's fear of the unknown horrors that may have been waiting for her receded. He stopped for a moment, the silence somehow indicating a question.

"You really are an angel, Gabriel," she whispered, relaxing in the safety his arms offered. The man stiffened and she could tell he was staring down at her even though it was dark and neither one of them could see a thing.

She knew it would bother her again later that he was a killer but right now she was just glad that he had come when he had.

Suddenly it struck her where they had to be and she removed her arms from around his neck. How could he know how to-

"You read my diary you… you-" Seraph whispered horror struck, unable to think of a word that applied. Demon or monster might have expressed how she felt in other circumstances but something warned her not to be as unfeeling as to use those words against Gabriel. He had probably been called those before and no one should be treated that way, deformed or not.

There was still only silence, though she knew he had heard her quite clearly.

"Why?" She demanded angrily, though she knew full well he wouldn't answer.

There was silence as he began to walk again, and she felt bad for getting upset when it was actually far better for her that he had read her diary, even if it did mean invading her privacy.

Better having her thoughts from several years ago violated than her body.

Before much longer, Gabriel carried her into the warmly lit kitchen and set her on her feet, politely looking away as she did her best to hold her shredded bodice around herself.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper but it caused his gaze to meet her own.

"Thank you Gabriel. I owe you."

After a moment of enduring the Phantom's ever-unreadable stare, Seraph turned away and moved in the direction of her room a little unsteadily. She was shaking a little and was grateful that Gabriel didn't offer to help her any farther. She could get there herself, thank you. And she really needed to think.

Running a bath for herself, she began to hum quietly then sing to herself. Music usually served to calm her.

"_It starts with pain, followed by hate,__  
Fueled by the endless questions no one can answer,__  
A stain, covers your heart and tears you apart_  
_Just like a sleeping cancer._

_I don't believe men are born to be killers,  
I don't believe the world can be saved  
How did you get here and when did it start?  
An innocent child with a thorn in his heart?_

_What kind of world do we live in?  
Where love is divided by hate,  
Loosing control of our feelings,  
We all must be dreaming this life away,  
In a world so cold._

_Are you sane? Where's the shame?  
A moment of time passes by,  
You cannot rewind who's to blame.  
Where did it start? Is there a cure for your sickness?  
Have you no heart?_

_No, I don't believe men are born to be killers,  
I don't believe the world can be saved,  
How did you get here and when did it start?  
An innocent child with a thorn in his heart?_

_What kind of world do we live in?  
Where love is divided by hate,  
Loosing control of our feelings,  
We're dreaming this life away,  
What kind of world do we live in?  
Where love is divided by hate  
Selling our souls for no reason,  
We all must be dreaming this life away,  
In a world so cold…_

_There's a sickness inside you that wants to escape.  
It's a feeling you get when you can't find your way.  
So how many times must you fall to your knees?  
Never, never, never, never do this again._

_It starts with pain, followed by hate,  
I don't believe men are born to be killers,  
I don't believe the world can't be saved.  
We all must be dreaming this life away,  
In a world so cold."_

* * *

After soaking in the bath for as long as she could without feeling like she was going to totally shrivel up into a raison, she got out and put on her sleeping clothes, though it was only early evening.

She found a book and crawled into bed, opening it to her bookmark. She read for a few pages then allowed the book and her eyes to slip closed. A few minutes later there was the slight brushing sound the door made as it opened and a pair of hands pulled the blankets up a little more then retreated. The angel blew out all but one of the candles on his way out.

Seraph smiled thoughtfully to herself and drifted into the welcoming oblivion of sleep.

* * *

Seraph woke with a start from her dream. In her nightmare she had been reliving the scene in the alley. Looking around, her eyes wild with fear at first, she slowly calmed as she recognized her room.

Gabriel had saved her.

But he had also killed two more men, bringing the number of killings she knew of to three, though undoubtedly there had been many more before he came here.

Seraph shivered. The taking of life was understandably one of the things she hated and feared the most. Strangely, as she thought about it she realized that if he had only brutally maimed them she would have been less bothered by it.

_I am so messed up,_ she thought with a frown. The words rang true in every sense on the word and she snorted softly. Spice, who had been sleeping next to her, yawned and mewed her annoyance at being woken. Seraph stroked the sleepy kitten, lulling her back to sleep before getting up.

There was a lot of work to do still, especially if men were being hired to kill her. It wouldn't be long before someone mentioned the effectiveness of a fire.

After getting dressed, Seraph left her room, leaving the door ajar for the cats, and started to the kitchen, though she paused outside Gabriel's room. She really wished she knew his real name but perhaps eventually he would trust her with it.

Or maybe it was a really ridiculous name, like Eduardo or Reginald.

There was light seeping under his door so she went into the kitchen and made some breakfast, putting it onto two plates.

She walked back to his door and tapped softly. After a few moments it opened. He was dressed for comfort and not fashion, though he still looked amazing, and he looked tired.

When he gestured for her to come in, she did so, setting the plate of his desk and glancing curiously at the papers. He seemed to be designing something but she didn't want to pry.

He made no move towards the food so Seraph pointed to the chair at the desk.

"Sit down and eat before it gets cold."

Gabriel gave her a strange look. "It's really only necessary to eat once a day…" he said quietly.

Seraph's eyes narrowed. "You're too thin. Sit and eat." She wondered why she was being so demanding. She needed to get some sort of control over her tongue when she was around this man.

After another unreadable look the Phantom moved to the chair and sat down, picking up the fork. Seraph sighed softly with relief that he wasn't mad.

After observing him for a moment, she saw the tension in his muscles. Unbidden, her mind brought up old memories of when her father would come home tired and sore. She had always enjoyed massaging the tension out of his shoulders.

A tear slid down her cheek and she dashed it away hurriedly, moving out of the room to escape the temptation to go over and rub Gabriel's shoulders.

Seraph went back to the kitchen and ate her food without really tasting it before heading down to work on gathering up things they would need to live in the caverns.

She had hauled most of the books and gathered stacks of paper and writing tools before she saw Gabriel again. His hair was damp and he looked refreshed. Seraph looked away, going back to work without a word.

* * *

Well what'd y'all think? Ideas and reviews make me write a lot faster…

Please


	8. The musicbox

My, such vehemence from you guys… Well, the reviewers commanded so here's the next chappie. I feel so loved.

Thank yous to Phantom's-Only-Christine, I'm so very glad that you like it and are reviewing, it never fails to make my day, WhySoSeriusBlack45, aw thank you so much for the great ideas, I plan to use those, Phantom-Phan442, lol of course I'll share him, he's his own master anyways. And yes, I think it's time he trusts her. And Oprghs, thank you for reviewing :)

You guys are great, I look forward to hearing what you think of this chapter.

Phantom-Phan442 beta'd this chapter as well and gifted me with her insightful input :)

Disclaimer: I still don't own the rights to the Phantom of the Opera and the characters therein, just my OCs and plot and theatre and stuff… yeah.

Once again I love hearing what you all think and I'll probably use any ideas that I get from you, not to mention I'll write a whole lot faster if I get reviews.

So, enough boring author note,

Enjoy!

* * *

They worked silently together, usually in the same room though Seraph did her best to be on the opposite side. She couldn't seem to control her actions around him, which caused her self-confidence to falter. It scared her.

She had gotten so used to being alone that, hate it as she did, she was comfortable in her solitude. Gabriel's presence changed _everything_. He was older, wiser, stronger, smarter… he had way more experience in everything, including theatres. After reading her diary he was now able to navigate her passages without further trouble with ease. There was nowhere she could go to escape from him if she ever wanted to. The Phantom had taken over her home and she didn't think she liked it.

After a while Seraph became aware that she was scowling darkly. A headache threatened the back of her eyes and she knew if she didn't relax it would strike. With a heavy sigh she forced her face to relax and picked up a music box, the lid falling open. It wasn't wound but after a few moments it began to sing to her.

"_Lady, Angel standing there, why do you guard against me? Let me come to you, warm and comfort you, Lady, Angel fair."_

Seraphina's eyes narrowed suspiciously and she glanced across the room at Gabriel, but he was busy working with a stage prop. Watching him carefully, she sang softly back to the music box, which last time she had checked, didn't sing anything remotely resembling its last little song.

"I guard against cold and dark, my heart is unsure and fearful. My angel is everything I want and more, but love without trust should never be."

Sure enough, when she began to sing Gabriel paused for a brief moment before retuning to work, though he was careful not to make a sound.

For a while longer Seraph and the music box bantered, the topic changing randomly from one strange thing to another. During the course of the conversation, if it could indeed be termed such, Seraph set the box down and returned to her tasks.

After a while, comfortable silence descended. In a few minutes however, the music box broke it,

"_Will you come to me, strange angel?"_ it asked her. Seraph looked at it for a long moment then turned her attention to Gabriel, who was working on dismantling one of the sets into small enough pieces for the two of them to be able to move easily.

With one more glance at the music box, she walked calmly over to where the Phantom was working. She was almost sure it was him, somehow talking through the box, and she was getting tired of it. If he wanted to talk to her he could bloody well talk to her face and not make her feel like a lunatic talking to inanimate objects. …Not that she didn't already do that, but that wasn't the point.

And anyway, he looked like he might be able to use some help.

She hadn't forgiven him and his killing had by no means been forgotten but she was willing to try to come to an understanding between the two of them.

"Need some help?" she asked with a certain chill to her voice once she was standing beside the Phantom.

He looked up and a look of intense satisfaction flickered across his face, disappearing just as quickly as it had come, but Seraph was sure she had seen it and it did little to ease her nerves. He was powerful and knew all of her secrets, while she knew none of his.

"Some assistance would be delightful," he practically purred and Seraph hid the trembling of her hands by propping them on her hips.

"What do you want help with?" she asked.

For the rest of the day, the two worked side by side and Seraph found that she really enjoyed being near Gabriel.

That evening Seraph went into the passages and disabled the traps on one of the paths to the main cavern and then returned upstairs so that they could haul another bed down.

After a great deal of struggling (mostly on Seraph's part) and a goodly amount of muttered curses (again, on Seraph's part) the finally got the bed to the main room of the caverns.

Seraph set her end of the mattress down with a wince and looked around, muttering to herself, "Now wherever should we put it…"

To her surprise, Gabriel responded.

"It should go in the same room as the other bed."

Seraphina stared at the man, aghast. "Do you know how… _improper_ that is?" She was terribly aware that her voice had risen to an indignant squeak.

Gabriel nodded patiently. "Yes, but it would make it much more efficient. We would be able to conserve heat better and if anyone ever got down here we would be able to defend ourselves better than we would be able to if we were separated," he said reasonably.

Seraph sighed. Those were good points and she found it difficult to argue with his logic. And if she did then she would have to admit her attraction to him and that would be nothing if not awkward.

He was about to continue when she said "Fine, fine, we'll put it in the same room. Though if my parents ghosts come back to haunt me, I'm going to tell them that it was your idea." She mock threatened even as she tried very hard to ignore the smugly pleased look in the Phantom's eyes.

He was very frightening at times.

After they had re-arranged the bedroom they returned up to the main floors of the opera house, Seraph resetting the traps as she went. Gabriel watched her closely as she did so, making her uncomfortable. She was so accustomed to being alone and the stares of cats and those of men were quite different.

Seraph wanted to break the now-uncomfortable silence but she was unsure how too. She really wanted to ask about Christine Daae but she didn't dare, nor could she bring herself to inquire about anything else really. _Did you have a happy childhood, Opera Ghost?_ She mocked herself internally. The answer to that was fairly clear. He wouldn't have had many playmates, if any at all.

After a few moments the Phantom took advantage of her continuing silence to ask,

"Do you plan to re-open your theatre at some point?"

Seraph stumbled slightly and the Phantom caught her elbow in his strong grip. Truth be told, she hadn't ever really considered re-opening, but eventually either her or her uncle would be gone.

"Maybe someday, if I live long enough. What would you do if I did re-open?"

He shrugged. "We'll see."

After that they lapsed into silence again, parting to go to their separate rooms.

* * *

The following morning they repeated the process, Seraph making breakfast for the two of them and taking his in to him, finding the Phantom at his desk looking tired, working on the papers scattered before him.

Again, Seraph left quietly after he started to eat, leaving him in peace and going back to the kitchen to eat her own food.

After she was finished eating, she went down and began going through the crates of clothes and fabrics since they had gathered almost everything else they needed.

She carefully sorted out the clothes into two piles to start with; men's clothing and women's.

After she had two heaping mounds she sighed and left the rest of the things in the crates, going over to the pile of women's clothing. She looked each garment over carefully; looking for stains and holes as well as fit and fabric. After sorting through as much as she could possibly endure without biding farewell to her mind entirely, Seraph moved over to the men's clothes to repeat the process, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

She was about to give in to the urge to scream when Gabriel walked into the room. An amused smile crossed her face as she contemplated what his reaction would be if she screamed in his ear. She rather imagined that a look of shock and horror would pass over his face first, and then she wasn't sure what he would do. Better not then.

With a sigh she leaned back, sprawling gracefully across the floor. She was terribly bored.

"What do you do for fun?" she asked, surprising them both with her question.

"Fun?" Gabriel echoed softly, seeming to have to think about it. "I suppose I write music."

Seraph sat up. "Really? What kind of music?"

The man shrugged. "I wrote an opera once."

Sadness and regret had crept into his voice and Seraph, despite her boredom, decided that it was probably best to leave well enough alone.

After a few moments of thought, Seraph asked, "So what instruments do you play?"

Wry humor twisted Gabriel's mouth into a half smile. "A lot, though I mostly used a pipe organ."

"I think," Seraph said slowly, "there might be one around here somewhere. We should see if we could find it. If you'd like we could come up with a way to get it down to the cavern and…" She trailed off, deep in thought, not noticing the strange, almost tender, look she was receiving from the Opera Ghost.

After a bit she got up and went back over to one of the piles of clothes, starting to go through the garments again.

"Gabriel," she said suddenly, studiously not looking up at him, "why did you kill those men in the theatre the other day? You didn't have to."

There was a pause.

"I didn't," came the reply and Seraph bit her lip at the cold tone.

"I let the three of them go, two still unconscious and the other one with a good scare. The two came back and were going to rape and kill you. See what pity and mercy get in return?"

Seraph looked up, her eyes wide as his words penetrated. "It was… the same men?" she asked, her voice very soft, and not just from the fear that had come back with the memories of what had almost happened in the alley.

She watched the Phantom carefully, sensing that his mood was now quite dark. She wasn't afraid of him, but she was close to it.

"Yes, it was the same men."

Seraph's hands, which were hovering over the pile of dresses, began to tremble and the man's eyes flickered to them. His mouth tightened and he held out his hands to her.

She took them cautiously and allowed herself to be pulled toward the Phantom. With a well-practiced move, he spun her softly and pulled her back against him, his strong arms holding her gently.

She knew that if she chose to step away he would let her so she relaxed against him, resting her head back on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I should have listened to you. But murder is still wrong, no matter how justified it might seem."

He began to hum softly, some unknown song that Seraph had never heard before, except, perhaps, in her dreams, but even that was unlikely. Closing her eyes, her hand slipped up to rest on his cheek.

"Gabriel," she started,

"Erik." He corrected gently and Seraph's eyes opened. She turned and he released her, though she didn't move away.

"Erik." She repeated, liking the name. It fit him well. "Derived from _'ei'_ or 'ever' and '_ríkr'_ which is 'ruler', correct?"

Erik nodded and Seraph smiled. "It suits you, Phantom of the Opera."

After that, they went back to work in silence and it was almost as though their last conversation had never taken place, though the silence was somehow friendlier now.

After a few more hours had passed, Seraph went upstairs to get some food for lunch.

While he was waiting for her, Erik looked through some more of the clothes that she hadn't sorted. A flash of white caught his eye and he pulled it out. It was a beautiful wedding dress. In his mind's eye he saw Christine standing before him, tears in her eyes, reaching out for that insolent boy, the Viscount, Raul. Saw her coming toward him then taking off the ring he had given her.

Tossing the dress back down, Erik looked around for something he could break but there was nothing that would satisfy him. Soft footfalls alerted him to Seraphina's return and he quickly dashed away glistening teardrops from his face.

The door opened and Seraph came in, walking over and handing him a sandwich. He had noticed that she was rather fond of them, either that or they were easy to make and she didn't care about what she was eating enough to bother with something more complicated.

He watched the young woman as she roamed the room restlessly while she ate, catching the moment that her eyes found the wedding dress.

After looking at it for a brief moment, she turned away, her eyes filling with tears. All hunger apparently gone, she set her food aside and wrapped her arms around herself.

"C-can you put it out of sight somewhere?" she asked a little weakly and Erik made no move to do so. He was curious why it affected her so. Surely she hadn't been engaged at one point.

"It was my mother's." Seraph said, answering his unspoken question.

Erik picked up the offending dress that neither of them wanted anything to do with and wrapped it in a cloak, setting the bundle with the things to take down to the caverns.

She would eventually want it and it would be a shame to have it gone because her uncle had torched her home.

Erik finished his own food and, when Seraph still hadn't gone back to her sandwich, he shot her a stern look.

"You should eat."

Seraph looked up at him. "How many people have you killed?"

Erik blinked, taken aback by her sudden question. "You should eat," he repeated, looking away.

The woman nodded slowly. "Sorry," she said, going back to where she had set her food.

Erik silently slipped out of the room. They both needed a little time alone.

* * *

After she was done eating, or rather, feeding what she could to the cats and forcing herself to consume the rest, Seraph shoved the clothes that they had decided that they wanted into bags to haul down, stowing the rest back into the crates.

She paused as a red velvet suit caught her eye. It seemed in good enough condition, though it was way out of style and several sizes too large for Gabri- Erik.

She smiled, happy that he trusted her enough now to share his name. She tucked it into one of the bags too, just in case she got bored and needed something to do someday. She could surely use the fabric at least for something.

She lugged several of the bags down to the hidden staircase where they had been putting everything else. Erik was there and he had some pulleys set up with a rope down to the ground far below.

As she set the bags down she heard a voice echo through the hallways.

" 'Phina! Where are you?"

Seraph smiled and went to find her friend.

It wasn't difficult to find her since she was making a great deal of noise compared to the silent or near-silent Opera Ghost.

"Amelia, welcome! How've you been?" Seraph asked when she reached her friend.

Amelia jumped but seemed to recover fairly quickly from the suddenness of Seraph's appearance behind her.

"Oh, I've been the same as always, how about you?"

Seraph smiled, "I've been pretty good actually."

"That's very good to hear 'Phina. I brought you some more newspapers if you want them." The other girl sighed. "We have house guests today and they're nice enough but I'm really not quite sure what to make of them. They're a happy couple but there's tension between them… Oh, but Christine's so sweet, and Raul's very charming. I don't suppose you would like to come over for dinner? It's been so long and I think you would like them a lot."

Seraph's mind whirled. Christine and Raul, those names had been in the paper about the Phantom. She knew that she shouldn't leave Erik to have to fend for himself but she couldn't resist the possibility of learning more about his past.

"I would love that, thank you so much for the kind invitation," she said to Amelia with another smile.

" 'Phina," Amelia started then hesitated, "you seem… different somehow. Are you feeling well?"

"Yes, I'm feeling fine. I've just been thinking about my plans for the future that's all. It's really very exciting, I'm considering re-opening, and I think Mother and Father would have wanted that, don't you?"

Amelia nodded. "Yes, I rather think they would have."

"I'll go and change, then we can be on our way."

Amelia smiled as she watched her friend dash up the stairs. A change had come over her, making her far less… gloomy. Though she wondered what had happened, she was happy for her friend. In fact, if she didn't know better she might have guessed that Seraphina had met a man. That was ridiculous though, as sad as it may seem, she wasn't aware of any man that would go out of his way to introduce himself to the sole resident of an abandoned Opera House.

* * *

So, what did you think? I write so much faster... You know the drill.

Please


	9. Fire and ice

I'm really looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this chappie ;)

Ideas are still welcome for filler and thank yous go to WhySoSeriusBlack45, Phantom's-Only-Christine, Phantom-Phan442 (who reviewed twice (you're so awesome)), OprGhst, and Blue Eye Phantom (I will go look at your story soon, I just haven't had time yet. I'll review when I do :) ) for reviewing the last chapter.

None of you (except Phantom-Phan442, but you don't count, sorry) mentioned the bed scene, I'm amazed lol. I was so proud of myself, I thought y'all would like it but…

Oh, Phantom-Phan442, they can be whatever flavor cyber-cookie you want… er, not the kind that bogs down you comp though… lol

WhySoSeriusBlack45, I used (sort of) several of your ideas in this chapter, thank you so much :D I hope you like it.

So I'll stop blabbering now and let you get on to the part you actually come here to read.

I don't own the Phantom of the Opera or affiliated stuffamajiggies, just my own… stuff.

Enjoy!

* * *

Seraph found a dress that was suitable for going out and donned it before going out to the kitchen to write a note for Erik.

_Erik, I'm going to go with a friend for a while tonight, I'll be back sometime after dinner. There's plenty of food in the icebox…_

_ Yours, _

_ Seraph_

Amelia finally found her way up and stopped in the kitchen doorway, looking around. Seraphina dropped the note onto the table and wrapped a shawl around her head and shoulders. Amelia looked curiously at the piece of paper on the table but decided not to ask.

"Well," Seraph looked around one more time to be sure there wasn't anything important that she was forgetting. "I'm ready, shall we go?"

Amelia nodded. "My carriage is waiting outside."

Seraph smiled and led the way out of her theatre; missing the curious glance Amelia gave the note as they left the room.

The evening passed in somewhat of a blur for Seraph and she did a great deal more talking than she had in a long while.

All in all, she thought that Raul and Christine were very nice, though as Amelia had said, there seemed to be some sort of tension between them.

Most of the conversation was inconsequential things that had no real bearing on anything in particular, but there was one topic that Seraph paid great attention to.

In the middle of dinner Amelia mentioned that Seraph lived in an old opera house and Seraph caught the sudden look of heightened interest on both Christine and Raul's faces.

Christine looked at Seraphina curiously while Raul eyed his wife with a strange expression.

"Do you really?" Christine asked.

Seraph nodded and smiled. "I do, it's a very nice place really, if lonely at times."

She might have imagined it, but Seraph thought she saw a flash of guilt in the other woman's eyes.

The silence stretched a few seconds too long before Raul asked,

"Do you have any plans to reopen at some point?"

Again, Seraph nodded. "Yes. I hear that the Paris opera house burned down, which is a shame, such a beautiful building. But without that competition I believe I could do quite well here. I've been thinking about it and I probably will reopen sometime in the near future."

A look of pain crossed both Raul and Christine's faces as she mentioned the burning of the Paris Theatre and Seraph knew that they were the right Raul and Christine.

"The idea of a ghost was a brilliant idea on Paris' part, I might have to find myself one as well. What do you think would happen if I put out an ad in the paper?" She asked, watching for their reactions.

Raul looked pained and Christine paled spectacularly.

The subject changed, much to Christine and Raul's relief, and Seraph mulled over what she had learned.

After dinner, when Seraph was preparing to leave, Christine pulled her aside.

"I really don't think you should but out an ad in the paper for a ghost," She said earnestly.

"Why not?" Seraph asked, pretending that she truly didn't know.

Christine's mouth tightened. "Because the Phantom was real."

"I- I'm not sure I understand…" Seraph said, though mentally she urged Christine on.

"He's real and… Well I don't think it would be wise for you to tempt him here."

There was something that Christine wasn't saying.

"So… The Phantom of the Opera was real?" Seraph asked, her voice laden with skepticism. "Why should I believe you?"

Christine hesitated. "Come with me," she said after a moment of thought.

Seraph followed the older woman up to the bedrooms on the second floor.

Christine opened one of the doors and ushered her inside, going over to a large trunk on one side of the room and opening it, obviously searching for something.

Seraph looked around and finally spotted what she was looking for. There was a diary next to the bed on a small table. Moving discreetly, Seraph went over and flipped it open after making sure that Christine wasn't watching her. It opened to the last entry, which had been written this morning.

_Raul isn't what I thought he was. He's nice but I find myself missing my Angel of Music. There's no excitement living with Raul, no danger. I don't know if I could ever love that terrible face but at least life wouldn't be boring. I know Raul will always take good care of me and I carry his child but… I miss Paris and the Phantom. Raul thinks I'm mad for ever even thinking of him again, but part of me wants to go back to him. _

_Here's Raul now, I must go…_

Seraph closed the diary and turned away from it just as Christine found what she was looking for, hidden near the bottom of the trunk.

The older woman pressed a cloth-wrapped bundle into Seraph's hands and led her back out the door.

The carriage was outside waiting for her so she thanked Christine for whatever it was that she had been given and went out.

Amelia's father was going to escort her home since it was after dark and they were such nice people.

The carriage stopped outside the theatre and Seraph got out, waving to Amelia's father as she went inside. She took a deep breath, savoring the quiet, gentle atmosphere of her home.

Seraph trotted upstairs and into the living room, pausing as she saw that Erik was sitting in one of the armchairs, toying with the note she had left him.

He looked up and her breath caught at the raw emotion in his eyes. The door closed softly behind her and she went over to the other chair.

"Hello Erik. Did you find something for dinner or would you like me to make you something?"

There was a long pause.

"I ate," he replied quietly.

"Ah," Seraph responded, unsure what she was supposed to say. Should she apologize for leaving him? Why would she do that, she had only gone out for one night and it wasn't like she did it often… With a sigh, she sat down in the chair; the edges of the bundle Christine had given her digging into her ribs where she had tucked it inside her wrap. Somehow it didn't seem wise or polite to get it out here.

They sat there in heavy silence for a while until Erik tensed and looked around. He sniffed the air and got to his feet.

Then Seraph smelled it too. Smoke. She got to her feet quickly and went to the door. There was smoke billowing under it and the knob was hot, indicating that the fire had already reached the hall outside the door. There was only one entrance to the room they were in, except for the passage to the caverns.

Already the air was growing thick with soot and Seraph knew they had to escape, but Erik was a step ahead of her. He grabbed her arm and towed her to the hidden door, leading the way through the passage at a quick pace.

This passage wasn't one that Seraph used much, preferring the one in the kitchen and she struggled to remember where to step as Erik pulled her along at to fast of a pace.

"Slow down," she said, tugging against his firm grip on her arm.

He stopped and pulled her to him, lifting her into his arms effortlessly and carrying her bridal style.

"Erik, put me down, I can walk." She demanded as he started off again.

"This route is longer than most of the others and if the fire has already reached that room then we must hurry if we want to reach safety in time."

Seraph couldn't argue with his logic so she sighed as he carried her through her domain, irritated and not liking it at all that he knew his way around better than her. _She_ was supposed to be the one in charge, not him.

After what seemed like ages, they could hear the whispering sound of flowing water and Seraph knew that they were nearing the underground river that fed into the lake. There was a dim glow ahead of them and soon Erik stepped out of the narrow passage onto the wide bank.

One of the boats was tied to the side of the river, below where they had staged the stuff to haul down to the caverns.

The Phantom had been busy while she was gone, she could see. He had lowered a section of one of the larger stage props that they would use the materials from and had managed to get it into the boat.

Erik set her gently onto her feet and she looked around. There were several lanterns still lit from when he had been working, thus the fact that she could see and she picked one up.

The boat was loaded with as much as it could hold and still have room for the two of them so she went over and untied it. Erik scowled and took the rope out of her hands.

"Get in." he ordered and Seraph's eyes narrowed. She obeyed, but slowly, making a point of doing it because she wanted to and not because he had ordered her.

Erik got into the back and picked up the pole, pushing the boat out into the current.

Overall, Seraph was impressed with how he handled the craft and she was just about to warn him that there were rocks coming up when the boat was caught by a side current and slammed against one such rock, Erik falling into the water.

This section was deep, the water running fast and cold. Erik went under and didn't come up and Seraph wondered if he might have hit his head when he fell. She got to her feet, balancing carefully in the moving boat, and stripped out of her dress which would be heavy in the water. She left her shift on and kicked off her shoes before plunging in. Looking around, she spotted Erik and swam with the current to catch up to him. Taking a deep breath, she plunged under the water, doing her best to ignore the cold, and wrapped her arms around his waist, kicking upward as hard as she could to get back to the surface. He was heavy and she was glad she had taken off her dress because she was barely able to get them both up to air as it was. Erik was limp and his eyes were closed.

It was all Seraph could do to keep them afloat in the swift current, and she was glad that she knew it would carry them to the cavern on its own and not out to sea or some such.

Her limbs were heavy with exhaustion and she was tired and freezing by the time the water gentled and she was able to wearily claw toward shore, pulling Erik with her.

Seraph wasn't sure how she did it but she got him up onto the dry bank, out of the frigid water. He wasn't breathing but she had read about CPR in books.

Shivering in the cold, she straddled him and pushed on his chest rhythmically. He stirred a little but still wasn't breathing.

Seraph opened his mouth and pressed her lips against his, blowing air into his lungs. When she pulled back he coughed up a bunch of water. She repeated the process, blowing air into his mouth.

She drew back and he took a shuddering breath, hacking up more water.

After a few moments, he lay still again. She leaned forward and thought she saw his eyelids flutter but he didn't move so she put her mouth against his again. His eyes opened and he drew in a breath through his nose. Before Seraph had a chance to react, his hand gripped the back of her neck, holding her there as his lips moved sweetly against hers.

A surprised sound escaped her but she kissed the man back willingly. She had been so afraid that he wouldn't breath again.

His hands went to her shoulders then he released her and she pulled back.

"You're cold." He said as she shakily climbed off him. He was shivering too.

Luckily there was still a fire going so it was slightly warmer than it would have otherwise been but they both knew that they had to get dry and warm quickly.

Seraph stumbled up the steps to the main floor of the cavern and dug around until she found a pair of trousers and shirt for Erik and a nightgown for herself. She tossed the clothes to Erik along with a towel and went behind a curtain to strip out of her wet things, her teeth chattering.

She dried excess water off her cold, damp skin, listening to the sound of Erik's waterlogged boots going over to one of the other small rooms that was curtained off and she slipped into the nightgown before wrapping the towel around her hair. She went back out and over to the fire. Yes, there were some rocks arranged on the hearth. She thought she had remembered leaving some there last time she'd stayed down here and now she was very glad that she had. She put more wood in the fireplace, building it up, and picked up one of the hot rocks, hauling it quickly over to the nearest bed and dumping it under the blankets. There weren't very many on the rocks so there wouldn't be enough to heat both beds but she would be all right. Erik needed the heat more than she really did anyway. The towel came unwrapped and she shivered as her cold, wet hair fell against her neck.

Erik came out of the other room wearing the dry trousers and nothing else and Seraph blushed, turning her face away.

"The shirt was to small," he said softly in explanation. Seraph nodded and picked up the last rock, carrying it over to his bed.

"Here," she said, turning back the blankets and stepping away.

Erik frowned and she looked away again, trying to suppress her shivering.

He padded over to her and nudged her toward the bed.

"You need the warmth too," he said, his voice low. "Get in."

It wasn't a suggestion and Seraph knew she didn't have the strength to fight his order so she obeyed, scooting to one side of the bed so there was room for him too.

Under any other circumstances she would have never done such a scandalous thing but neither of them needed to get pneumonia. The mattress sank as the Phantom got in and arranged the blankets before pulling Seraph into his arms.

Slowly, both of their shaking stopped as the bed and their bodies warmed.

Seraph relaxed, feeling safe and comfortable in Erik's warm embrace, despite the fact that her home was burning above them. She turned carefully in his arms and cuddled against his chest, already more than half asleep, quickly falling into the deep sleep of physical and mental exhaustion.

* * *

So…? I love hearing from you…

Please


	10. Dreamers

Here's another chapter, sorry it's taken me so long. My muse took off and was refusing to come back unless it was at least two in the morning on a school night. …So yeah, that sucked. I think we're past that though.

I know this whole story has gone really fast with not much time for them to really get to know each other but someday (after I get rid of the tiny little sliver of a life that I still have,) I'll rewrite the story and change some details and maybe the timeline a bit. And I know, she's way young really but… tough. It gives a teen hope that maybe she'll find an awesome guy out there when she least expects it too.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed in the past and to OprGhst, Phantom-Phan442 (who reviewed twice :D), WhySoSeriusBlack45, Christy201, Chocoborider92, The Phantom's Scholar, and Emily. You guys are the awesome most ever, thank you for reading my story.

And of course thanks to everyone that's been reading and not reviewing, I appreciate you guys too, even if I don't always articulate it.

The Phantom's Scholar: Thank you so, so much for your advice, I've been doing a bit of research on that period lately and I will eventually fix the inaccuracies, stretch their relationship out a bit more, and… yeah, just basically fix things. I'm really grateful though to get some good crit. (You got published at eighteen? What is it? Will you share the title or would you prefer to be anonymous…)

It seems like there was someone else that I was going to thank because I used an idea they gave me, but I'm too lazy to go and look.

Heehee, I'm _so_ evil, you guys will have to tell me what you think of this chapter ;)

Enjoy!

* * *

Erik tensed for a brief moment as Seraph turned over in his arms. She snuggled closer to him and his arms tightened around her automatically. She sighed happily and he felt her relax further, if such a thing was even possible. He would have sworn that he felt the moment when she fell asleep. Her body was warm and incredibly soft against his and it seemed as though she had been made to fit against him. One of her hands slipped onto his side and he reveled in the feel of her unhesitating hand against his flesh.

Seraph… was a contradiction. There were times that he knew she was afraid of him, he'd been able to see it in her eyes, and yet she hadn't acted it. She was sometimes harsh to him and was definitely not afraid to voice her mind, which he liked, even if it was annoying.

She shifted a little, moving her head back, farther onto the pillow.

Her hair was across her face and he couldn't resist brushing it back, even if it meant he had to remove one arm from around her sleeping form.

A frown crossed his face as his eyes fell on a fading mark on her cheek. Remorse stabbed through him as he remembered that it had been he that had done that to her, right after she'd taken off his mask the second time.

He didn't understand why she had done so, the horror of seeing his face didn't really seem to affect her, unless of course she was a much better actress than he thought she was.

Wearily, he touched his mask, slowly removing it. He looked at it for a moment, admiring the shaping she had done on it, as though it had been tailored to his face. Which she would have had to see his face to do…

Tenderly, he cupped her bruised cheek in his palm. He wanted to dip his head down and kiss the soft, smooth skin of her face, but he didn't dare. Instead he contented himself with vividly remembering awakening to find her above him, dripping wet and doing her best to revive him. It had probably been wrong of him to kiss her as he had but she had responded well to his advance, kissing back.

It had undoubtedly been wrong of him to appreciate the way her soaked shift had clung to her curves the way only wet fabric could. She was so young and innocent, and so different than Christine had been.

Suddenly Seraph shuddered and struggled in his arms, fighting frantically to get away. He should have known better than to think that she would actually _want_ to lie here with him. Steeling himself, he removed his arms from around her, pushing her away coldly.

She continued to struggle against the blankets for a minute, tense and obviously frightened. He hadn't thought _she_ would be that horrified, but then what did he know about women, lying, prying little demons that they were.

Seraph lay abnormally still for a moment then half sat up, looking around somewhat frantically. There were tears in her eyes and a broken sob tore its way out of her as she moved back over to him, slipping her arms around his tense body and burying her face against his chest.

She was crying now, tremors wracking her. After a long hesitation, Erik resituated her arms and pulled her a little closer, enfolding her in his embrace.

"Erik?" she asked in a whisper, "What are we going to do when more men come? W-what if-" Seraph's arms tightened around Erik, "what if you hadn't come…? My uncle will never stop hunting me. His eyes will find us here, those eyes that burn. If he had to kill a thousand men… I can't escape from him, I never will. Erik, I'm frightened, he kills without a thought, he murders all that's good, what horrors wait for me…?"

Holding her close with one arm, he stroked her hair soothingly, hushing her softly.

Teary blue eyes peaked up at him and she took a deep, shuddering breath, slowly relaxing against him.

He moved his hand from stroking her hair to rubbing her back and she quieted further, reassuring him that she wasn't afraid of him.

Before too long, Seraph was asleep again, leaving the Phantom and his thoughts alone once more.

* * *

When Seraph woke again, she was warm and comfortable, pressed against something that emanated warmth. She lay still for a long while, enjoying the steady beating of the Phantom's heart, the gentle rhythm of his breathing, and the strength in the arms that held her.

He shifted a little and nuzzled her hair. Seraph opened her eyes and tilted her head so she could see his face. He was asleep. She smiled softly and cupped his scared cheek in her hand, studying his face. He looked peaceful. She pushed a stray strand of hair out of his face, tucking it gently behind his ear.

Seraph allowed her eyes to trail down across what she could see of his chest, the lightly tanned skin, masculine muscles, and smattering of fine hairs that graced his chest. It felt wrong somehow to do so, but he was asleep and she might never get another chance.

Slowly, she became aware of hunger knawing at her insides and frowned. Of all the times to be hungry, this was probably the worst moment her body could have chosen.

She hated to risk disturbing him but she would only get hungrier if she tried to ignore it, so she scooted upward in the bed, trying to work her way out of his arms.

His arms tightened and he pulled her back against him again, a slight frown on his face. He rolled onto his back, pulling her over with him so she was on top of him, murmuring something against her neck.

Seraph sighed. This might be more difficult than she'd thought. His arms were now around her lower back so she shifted her weight to her knees, one on either side of his waist, propping her hands on either side of his head and attempting to push herself into an upright position.

Suddenly one of her knees slipped off the edge of the mattress and she felt herself falling off the bed. Instinctively, she tried to grab a hold of Erik's shoulder, but she only succeeded in having the man fall off the bed onto her.

Seraph hit the floor hard, the breath rushing out of her as Erik landed on her, though thankfully her head landed on something that was definitely softer than stone.

Erik tensed the moment they hit the floor, waking. Seraph felt blood rushing to her face as she took stock of their situation, struggling to breathe with his weight on top of her.

He seemed to realize what had happened because he took his own weight onto his forearms, bracing them on the floor on both sides of Seraph and lifting his face from her chest.

She inhaled deeply, offering a very sheepish smile as she took in his expression of shocked amusement.

"Hello. Erm, fancy meeting you here?" she half squeaked, still trying to regain her breath. He wasn't exactly light after all.

"Pleasure meeting you," he replied with a smirk. "Mind telling me what happened?"

Seraph blushed. "C-can I get up first?"

He didn't respond, but his silence was answer enough.

Her eyes narrowed, not wanting to let him toy with her. "I was hungry so I tried to get up but you wouldn't let go so-"

"So you decided to push me off the bed but something went wrong?" he filled in. He wasn't smiling, not really anyway, but he managed to look thoroughly amused by the whole situation.

"Sure, why not." She said, pushing at his shoulders. "Now get up."

The look he gave her told her that he didn't like being ordered. Well that was just too bad, what goes around comes around. But how to get him off…

Before she could say anything, he asked, "Did you sleep all right?"

Seraph blinked at him for a moment, taken aback. "Yes, mostly I did, thank you. Did you?"

Ignoring her question, he moved off her, rising to his feet.

Seraph shivered slightly as his warmth retreated. She clambered to her feet as well, wondering how he had managed to look so graceful and trying not to stare at his well-formed chest or the line of dark hairs that disappeared downward.

The only safe place she could think of to look was at the floor, so she did, seeing that her head had landed on one of the sacks of clothes that had been brought down.

She looked up at his face with a frown. "Had you ever considered going into politics?"

His eyes narrowed slightly but he maintained his relaxed air, idly rubbing his side. Seraph's eyes darted down to follow the movement but she quickly pulled her gaze back to his face, her blush deepening slightly.

"Politics?" he questioned, his voice low.

Seraph nodded emphatically. "You're quite good at question evasion. Did you sleep all right, Phantom?"

After a moment he nodded with a slight shrug. "Well enough," he said, though in reality he had hardly slept at all, used to being awake at night.

Seraph sighed and moved past him, going out into the main room of the cavern.

The boat was drifting about near the middle of the lake, the current having carried it back to the calm lake. Seraph looked back toward the bedroom but Erik wasn't visible. Perhaps he'd gone back to bed. She gathered up the skirt of her nightgown and stepped down into the water, holding the fabric up to mid thigh height so that less of it would get wet.

Stepping carefully, she waded out to the boat and grabbed the rope that was attached to the prow, towing it back to the spot where she docked it.

She got her dress out of the boat and managed to save the bundle from Christine from falling into the water. She had forgotten about it, and was about to peak inside when Erik coughed several times.

Giving the bundle a reluctant look, she folded her dress around it and returned to dry land.

Erik was still in the bedroom but she figured he must be hungry as well. She went over to the icebox, trying to decide what to make. There wasn't really a very good kitchen set up down here yet and she made a mental note for that to be one of the first things they did. She would probably find something to put into sandwiches…

Erik coughed again and Seraph frowned, turning and going into the bedroom instead.

The man was pawing through the sack of clothes, presumably to find a shirt to wear and she found herself struggling not to admire his strong legs, though she was able to keep her eyes on his calves and not anything higher.

"Are- are you feeling alright?" She asked hesitantly, unsure if this would be one of those things that he would snap at her for. She didn't want to upset him, seeing as though they were likely going to be spending a good deal of time together down here.

Erik straightened and looked back at her. He looked tired.

"I'm fine," he said, though she didn't quite believe him. He stifled another cough and she frowned at him.

"Get in bed," she ordered, ignoring his dark scowl as she did so. He didn't move toward the bed so she went over, fluffing the pillows and straightening the blankets.

"There, is that better your lordship?"

Erik still didn't move from where he was.

"No? Fine, well, don't even think of coming and haunting me because you died of some horrific disease. I tried," Seraph said, shrugging. She moved out of the bedroom, glancing over her shoulder in the opening that led to the main cavern. Erik had moved over toward the bed, though he was watching her. Their eyes met and Seraph smiled slightly.

* * *

He watched her leave the room and then sighed, raking a hand through his hair. He turned to look down at the bed but something caught his attention, a flash of a silvery color that he saw out of the corner of his eye. His mask was lying on the small table next to the bed where he had put it earlier…

His hand darted to his face, just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He wasn't wearing his mask.

Thoughtfully, his gaze shifted to the doorway Seraphina had disappeared through.

* * *

Seraph stoked up the fire and filled a pot with some fresh water from the spring that welled up in another small chamber off the main cavern. There was a pool there that she used for drinking water and a small stream that flowed down into the lake.

She put the pot on the metal grate over the fire and gathered up the other things that she would need to make a pot of broth.

Erik was sick, she was sure, and she wasn't feeling exactly well herself. She would live, it was just a bit of a cold but Erik had been in the water longer than she had _and_ he'd hit his head… _Speaking of that, I should check his head later to be sure he's all right,_ Seraph thought with a sigh. Why did she have the sneaking suspicion that he wasn't going to be an easy patient?

While the water was heating she slipped back into the bedroom, pleased to see Erik in bed, and located the bag that she'd put her clothes in, quickly finding an outfit.

The man didn't move. She stared intently at him for a few moments until she was able to discern that he was indeed still breathing.

With one last glance at the apparently sleeping man over her shoulder, Seraph left him to rest.

She changed into her dress and went back to the fire again, adding in some vegetables to the broth before getting another, smaller pot and filling it with water to heat for tea.

While she was waiting for things to cook she unwrapped the bundle that Christine had given her. The first things that came into sight were to masks, one very similar to the one she had fashioned for Erik, a quarter mask that would cover his deformity but leave the rest of his face visible, white and made of either porcelain or leather, she couldn't quite tell. The other mask was just as spectacular; it vaguely resembled a skeleton, with large holes around the eyes. It was a rather stunning piece, though she wasn't sure she could picture it on Erik. It would certainly make him more frightening though, which was probably a good deal of the point for wearing it in the first place, and not a more normal looking mask.

The third item was a book. Seraph moved to open it but then Erik coughed again and she thought better of it. She would have time to look at it later; first she should get him some broth. She carefully wrapped the things back up and placed them on a table nearby.

After a bit of rummaging around, she found a bowl and spoon, filling the former with broth. She carried the bowl into the bedroom and set it on the nightstand before walking over to the bed.

"Erik?" she asked softly, "Are you awake?"

He turned toward her, his eyes open, and reached out, taking her hand. Seraph's eyes went wide as she saw the loving expression on his face, trembling and he pulled her gently to him and onto the bed, wrapping his arms tenderly around her.

She couldn't seem to form any thoughts as he nuzzled her hair and she couldn't make out what he was murmuring quietly, but that was fine.

She hadn't had much contact with people in the past four, almost five years, and even before that she'd _never_ had someone hold her like this, as though she was his very soul. As if without her, he would be nothing.

Seraph slipped her arms around him, relaxing and reveling in his scent, leather and darkness, though she wasn't really sure how darkness had a smell, it just did somehow.

He shifted, moving his head so he could press a kiss to her forehead.

After he drew away slightly, Seraph looked up at him, her eyes warm. Her hand moved up to cup his scarred cheek and he tilted his head towards her palm, gazing intently into her eyes.

"I love you," he said and Seraph was sure that she had never heard more beautiful words spoken, and then he added, "Christine."

Seraphina's heart shattered. Her eyes filled with tears and she pushed him roughly away, crawling back out of the bed and ignoring his anguished cry as she left the room, angrily dashing away her glistening tears.

It had been stupid of her to think he loved her; no he still wanted Christine even though she was married and pregnant.

Seraph was shaking with emotion as she made her way carefully over to the table covered in books, the floor seemed to be a little blurry and for some reason her feet didn't want to obey her. She closed her eyes, more tears streaming down her face unheeded and she grabbed the first thing that her groping hand encountered, carrying it numbly over to the couch before she allowed herself to collapse.

* * *

She had come back to him. Erik couldn't quite believe his eyes; she had actually come back. He had been sure that she would run off with that boy, Raoul, and he had resigned himself to life without her, and yet here she was in front of him. He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to him and wrapping her in his arms. Her hair was soft and sweet smelling.

Elated, nuzzled her neck and hair, feeling her slender arms slip around him. There was a dull throbbing in his head but he didn't pay any attention to it, his Christine was here in his arms and there was nothing more important in the entire world.

He kissed her forehead before pulling back to stare into her brown eyes which he had thought he would never see again.

"I love you," he told her, pausing. "Christine."

And suddenly she shoved him away, her face distorting. He reached out, trying to stop her from leaving again but she was already gone. He cried out, trying to call her back to his side, but she didn't stop.

She left him.

Again.

Sobbing, Erik turned away from the light, curling into himself. Eventually he fell into an exhausted slumber.

* * *

See, I'm evil. Yes, I know what I'm doing. He's very ooc at the moment but it's supposed to be that way. You'll see. *grins gleefully*

Reviews?

Please


	11. Discovery

Well, I'm rather pleased with this chapter, you guys will have to tell me whether you like it or not. And it's been less than a week since I updated last, wow. I hope it's not to confusing, but if it is let me know and I'll do my best to change it somehow.

Don't expect another one that quickly though; my muse wants to go on strike again. She loves getting reviews and, well, I'm afraid to say she was slightly disappointed with the turnout for the last chapter. She does understand though that people are busy and may not have even read the chapter yet.

But we are giving gigantic cyber hugs to OprGhst and Chocoborider92 for their lovely reviews, we love you guys.

We love the rest of you readers as well but it's nice to get a review now and again too. Okay, okay I know, I'm getting greedy.

I'm also going to thank Brian for his help with technical details for one of the next few chapters, he's the best. Haha I'm so evil, poor Erik. But yes, Brian's the absolute best. I'd give him a cyber hug too but I think that would weird him out…

**I do not own Phantom of the Opera, and related characters and events, or P.S. I Love You. On a much more unfortunate note, I don't own Gerard Butler… lol**

So anyways, thanks for reading and/or reviewing, we (me, my muse and I) appreciate each and every one of you. Even if we don't always mention you by name.

Enjoy!

* * *

Seraph cried quietly into a pillow, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in her chest. She had known that it was too perfect. It had been going way too fast, or that's what everyone else would have told her.

After a while she realized how pathetic she was. Here she was, sobbing her heart out because Erik was in love with someone else. She probably wasn't even old enough for him to consider her more than a companion.

With a sigh, she threw the pillow away from her, sitting up. She dried her face and picked up the bundle from the floor where it had fallen. She got the book out of it and wrapped the masks back up again, setting them on a nearby crate that was in her reach.

She opened the book. It was one of Christine's journals. She flipped through it, seeing lengthy descriptions and songs written out. The songs surprised her; Christine hadn't struck her as a creative person though maybe she had been wrong.

Now curious, she went back to the beginning and started to read.

Several pages in, she heard Erik cough. She really didn't want to but she would take him warm broth anyway. Seraph closed the book and was about to set it on a table when she hesitated. She didn't want him to somehow find it. She looked around for a good place she could put it that he wouldn't find it but nothing came immediately to view. Her eyes narrowed and she glanced down. Her bodice was a little loose anyway and with the cut of it the smallish book wouldn't be visible. She would be coming right back out to read some more anyway so for right now, it would work.

After tucking the book into her bodice, she made her way silently into the bedroom, not even looking at the bed as she picked up the bowl of now-cold broth.

Seraph took it out and poured the cold soup into the pot, refilling the bowl with warm broth.

She carried it back in to the bedchamber.

"Erik, wake up. I brought you some soup." She said, not touching him.

He stirred and opened his eyes, looking blearily up at her.

Seraph extended the bowl toward him and he took it from her, watching her face.

"Thank you." He said softly.

Seraph withdrew her hand quickly, hoping it wasn't trembling too obviously. "Don't mention it," she replied, turning away quickly and leaving the room.

Erik stared after her, wondering why she was acting so coldly towards him before he turned his attention to the broth she had brought him, suppressing a cough.

Seraph flopped down on the couch again. If he didn't want to talk about what had happened earlier, that was all right, she wouldn't bring it up either.

She dug the book out and flipped it open to the page she had been on, continuing to read. Christine was very detailed in some parts as she described events and Seraph couldn't help but snicker a little as she read Christine's thoughts as she saw the Vicomte, Raoul, again. Poor thing certainly didn't feel that way now.

She paid close attention to the parts detailing Erik, what he did, what he wore, and she discovered that the songs in the book were mostly Erik's. That definitely made much more sense than Christine writing songs.

The other woman was very detailed as she described her performance and the voice of the Angel of Music that suddenly became the Phantom of the Opera and swept her off to his lair. Christine had been sure that it was a dream.

Sudden understanding tore through Seraph as she read about how when Christine awoke in Erik's "lair" she'd taken off his mask as the first thing she did. A sick feeling settled in her stomach, as Christine seemed to take great delight in describing him as a horrific monster, though from what she could tell it was possible that he had over-reacted slightly. Or maybe more than slightly, it was difficult to tell, having only heard one side of the story. She went back and read his rant again, biting her lip as the pain she could tell he had been feeling swept through her. She cursed her soft heart and read on.

* * *

Erik drank the hot broth Seraph had brought him, the warmth soothing the pressure in his chest. It was excellent broth, the flavor rich. He couldn't tell what she'd put in it, but whatever it was, it was good.

After he was done he put the bowl aside and rested back down onto the pillows, wincing as pain radiated from the lump on the back of his head. He turned his head to one side and the pain lessened.

Did his face frighten Seraph? Perhaps that was why she had retreated so quickly after bringing him the broth. She'd seemed agitated and uncomfortable. Erik scowled, then forced himself to relax as his head throbbed in protest of his tension.

He had hoped perhaps that she would be different. That she wouldn't be discomfited by his ghastly face.

* * *

Christine told of La Carlotta loosing her voice and of the man being hung during the opera, obviously scared out of her mind. Seraph read of how she had taken Raoul up to the roof and told him of the Phantom. Her respect for the Vicomte plummeted as he didn't seem to understand what Christine was telling him, and she disliked Christine even more as she once again launched into how horrific Erik's deformities were.

"Raoul, I've seen him, can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face, so distorted and deformed, it was hardly a face in the darkness… Darkness…But his voice filled my spirit with a strange sweet song, in the night there was music in my mind, and through music my soul began to soar…" She knew for a fact that his face wasn't as bad as the other woman seemed to think it was and she scowled at Christine's sudden mood changes, first encouraging Raoul and then ignoring him. There were music notes above it, so she assumed that all this had been sung.

She knew that something terrible was going to happen as she read, with growing horror, the song that Christine and Raoul had sung together up there on the roof, with "only the stars at witnesses". Suddenly she frowned and skipped back several pages to the songs that Erik had sung to her, realizing that what she told Raoul she wanted was blatantly the opposite of what Erik had so freely given to the ungrateful Christine.

Her heart screamed that this was all going to end badly, but then, she already knew that. If it had gone well Christine wouldn't be married to Raoul and unhappy with it, and the Phantom of the Opera wouldn't be sick in the basement of her theatre with her and pining after a married woman.

She went back to the page she was on and her lip curled as she read Christine's detailed account of what kissing Raoul was like. She really hadn't needed to know about that.

The next few pages were boring for the most part, with no appearances from the Phantom. Seraph read about the Masquerade ball with great interest, sneering at Raoul and Christine, a now "secretly engaged" couple. Raoul once again ignored Christine's wishes for it to remain secret. It seemed like a very good idea that it not be general knowledge under the circumstances.

Seraph thought that Christine really was far more patient with Raoul than maybe she should have been.

"Why's it secret?" Raoul had apparently asked. _Well, perhaps there this man who's in love with your bride and he's proven himself willing to kill,_ Seraph thought, but decided that maybe she was just more logical than most people.

It sounded like it was a lovely event and Seraph wished she could have seen it. She had to admit though, her heart sped up as Christine described the Phantom's appearance and his costume. Christine put it in a bad light but she could imagine the scene as it must have truly been. She realized that must have been the second mask that Christine had given her, the skeletal one.

"Why so silent, good messieurs, did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me, good messieurs, I have written you an opera." There were notes above this as well and Seraph hummed it under her breath, trying to picture all this in her head.

Her eyes widened as she remembered that Erik had told her that he wrote music, and that he'd once written an opera. She had never thought… Eagerly, she read on, frightened to see what happened, but curious as well.

"Here, I bring the finished score, Don Juan Triumphant." Seraph bit her lip hard as she though about what the name Don Juan must have meant to the Phantom. Don Juan had been a womanizer and she guessed that women were something Erik didn't get many of, considering his adoration for Christine and her lack of ability to see past his face to the astonishing person he was on the inside.

Looking back at the page, Seraph's eyes widened as he apparently tossed his work to the floor, drawing a sword. She hoped desperately he didn't kill anyone else.

"Fondest greeting's to you all, a few instructions just before rehearsal starts,"

Seraph shared in Christine's astonishment and confusion as Raoul let her side, retreating and apparently running away from the masked swordsman.

"Carlotta must be taught to act," Seraph snickered, "not her normal trick of strutting 'round the stage." Seraph smiled fondly as he reportedly placed the point of his sword in her hat, rattling the feathers and other nonsense there. Even supposing Christine was grossly biased, Carlotta didn't seem like a pleasant person. At all.

"Our Don Juan must loose some weight, it's not healthy in a man of Piangi's age. And my managers must learn that their place in an _office_ not the acts." That seemed like something her Erik would say.

"As for our star, miss Christine Daae," here he sheathed his sword, "no doubt she'll do her best, it's true her voice is good, she knows though, should she wish to excel, she has much still to learn if pride will let her return to me, her teacher. Her teacher…"

Seraph refused to believe that Christine had actually been cruel enough to go to him, even after betraying his love as she had. And there was still no sign of little lover boy, who seemed to be something of a fop. Seraph's lip curled, she really didn't like Raoul and everything Christine said about him was way to mushy.

The Phantom saw her engagement ring and yanked it off the chain around Christine's neck, Seraph wincing in sympathy for the other woman's neck. Men in stories always seemed to do that, didn't they know it hurt?

"You belong to me," he'd hissed before vanishing through a trap door in the floor. Raoul, the little lover boy, jumped in after him. Seriously, how stupid was he? The trapdoor had closed after him, naturally.

Christine went on to be very boring, sitting around doing absolutely nothing besides worry about the idiot of a Vicomte.

Christine went off to the cemetery, passing Raoul who was asleep outside her room as she left. Seraph snorted at his incompetence.

There was a song that Christine had sung and then she had heard a voice.

"Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance."

"Angel of father, friend of Phantom," Christine replied, and Seraph knew at once that it wasn't a ghost; rather, it was the Opera Ghost. She couldn't quite understand what Christine was thinking, one moment calling Erik a monster, the next an angel. A man could only take so much…

"Too long you've wandered in winter, far from my fathering gaze," and from there Christine was a little unclear with who was saying what, when, so Seraph assumed they must have been singing at the same time. There were a few lines though that caught her attention.

"Wildly my mind beats against you, yet my soul obeys, Angel of Music, I denied you, turning from true beauty, come to your strange angel."

Seraph truly didn't understand how Christine was blind enough not to see that it was Erik singing to her.

Raoul rode in, trying to play the hero, though Seraph wasn't buying it for a moment.

"No, Christine wait, whatever you believe, this man, this _thing_ is not your father."

Seraph couldn't believe that he had actually called Erik, _her Erik_ a thing. He wasn't some mindless beast, to be treated that way. It didn't surprise her at all, unlike poor Christine, when the Phantom dropped down from above, lunging at Raoul with his sword.

Tragic luck that Raoul happened to have his as well, though Seraph was all right with it. If Raoul had died it was very unlikely that she would have ever met Erik.

Christine was terrible at describing fights. Raoul was wounded but he, by some twist of fate, got Erik's sword away from him. Christine stopped him from killing Erik though. Seraph might have to thank her for that later.

Christine rode off with Raoul and there were several more pages of Christine being boring and gushing about her lover, Raoul. Ugh.

Then came the night that they were to perform Don Juan. Christine was terrified and went down to the chapel to pray. Raoul found her there, sitting on the floor, trembling.

He did nothing to comfort her.

"Raoul I'm frightened. Don't make me do this. Raoul, it scares me."

Still the Vicomte was silent, though he did give his bride a small hug.

"Don't put me though this ordeal by fire. He'll take me, I know. We'll be parted forever, he won't let me go. What I once used to dream, I now dread. If he finds me it won't ever end and he'll always be there, singing song in my head, he'll always be there, singing songs in my head."

Seraph snorted softly as Christine started to sing.

Raoul followed her example, singing, "You said yourself he was nothing but a man. Yet while he lives, he will haunt us till we're dead…"

Seraph felt for Christine, having to choose between two "wonderful" men.

"Twisted every way, what answer can I give, am I to risk my life to win the chance to live? Can I betray the man who one inspired my voice, till I become his prey? Do I have any choice, he kills without a though, he murders all that's good," Here Seraph's eyes narrowed. That wasn't true. "I know I can't refuse, and yet, I wish I could. Oh God, if I agree, what horrors wait for me, in this, the Phantom's Opera…"

"Christine, Christine, don't think that I don't care, but every hope and every prayer rest on you now." And they hugged and went off to lala land.

Seraph stared blankly at the wall, wondering what Erik's take on all this had been. Where had he been and what had he been doing during all of this? Her thoughts whirled around her head violently and she wasn't sure that she could take any more of this right now.

She closed the book and tucked it back into her bodice, blankly getting herself a dish of the broth. It was all so much to process. Her heart ached for Erik, that he still longed for Christine even after she'd said so many horrible things about him.

After thinking long and hard and finishing her broth, Seraph made a cup of tea for her sore throat, stirring in a little sugar before drinking it. She sat on the couch, thinking hard and trying to sort out her thoughts. Where did she want to go in life? What was the best way to get there?

She resolved firmly to never be as indecisive as Christine was. She would do her best to be clear to whatever men ended up in her life.

Eventually her mind quieted and she fell asleep, her body working to fight off illness.

* * *

Erik wasn't sure how long he'd slept, but when he awoke he was cold. He didn't really want to have to find more blankets somewhere but he would look. He got out of bed and slipped the mask on in case Seraph was around. No need to frighten her more than necessary.

He padded out into the main cavern silently, scanning the room for the young woman or possible sources of heat. He didn't see any sign of Seraph in the cavern and frowned, wondering where she was. Looking around again, he saw a bit of fabric spilling out of a crate near the couch. He went over to investigate but it was just a shawl.

There was a movement from the couch and Erik noticed Seraph lying there, asleep. He shivered and straightened, moving over to her. He placed his hand over one of hers to find her skin cold.

A pleased smirk crossed his features and he lifted the unconscious woman into his arms, carrying her towards his bed.

Seraph stirred, sleepily half-opening one eye. "Wha's going on? Wha're you doin?" She asked, slurring her words and obviously not very awake.

"You looked uncomfortable and I'm cold so I thought we'd both sleep better in bed. You get someplace more comfortable, I get something to warm me. That's fair, don't you think?"

Seraph's face was twisted by some emotion and she turned her head away from him.

Erik frowned. She hadn't been this way a little while ago, what had changed to make her so… emotional?

They were just entering the bedroom when she suddenly asked, in a quiet voice, "Who's Christine?"

He stopped abruptly. "Why?" He demanded a little coldly.

"You- you mumbled something about her in your sleep," Seraph lied, her voice a little cold as she did her best to hold back fresh tears as she remembered what had transpired earlier.

"Are- are you mad at me?" Erik asked, a little incredulous.

"Why would you think that?" Seraph said, trying to not sound upset. It didn't work very well.

Erik hesitated, "If I tell you who- Christine is," he said, having a little trouble even saying her name, "will you tell me why you're upset?"

Seraph looked up at him, nodding slowly.

Erik deposited her in the bed and she slipped under the covers, moving over to make room for him.

He got into the bed next to Seraph and tried to put his arms around her but she pulled away.

"I taught Christine to sing and she ended up becoming a leading lady. She seemed like she understood me but she was like everyone else in the end and ran off with some knave." He told her, his voice cold and detached.

Seraph's eyes searched his face, obviously looking for more information but there wasn't a trace of emotion to be found on the Phantom's masked face.

Seraph suddenly felt uncomfortable as it became obvious that was all he was going to share. How was she supposed to explain why she was upset to this… cold, unfeeling mask?

After a moment she decided to be as vague as he had been. "I'm upset because of what you did earlier. It was cruel of you and you shouldn't have done it. It hurt Erik, it hurt a lot." And with that she turned over, putting her back towards the Opera Ghost.

He was silent for a moment. "Refresh my memory," he ordered coolly.

Seraph ignored him, closing her eyes and thinking of a sunny meadow in springtime, green grass and flowers, birds singing, the sky blue and the sunlight warm on her face. The man behind her made an annoyed sound that frighteningly resembled a growl, though he realized that she wouldn't give in unless he told her more about Christine, which he was not willing to do.

He let it go, remaining silent. After a while, the young woman relaxed and fell asleep. As soon as he was sure she was unconscious, he slipped his arms around her and pulled her closer. He could hardly benefit from her warmth if she was on the other side of the bed after all.

His hands encountered something hard where there should only have been the softness of her belly and he traced the edges of it with his fingers. Was it a book?

He eyes narrowed. She wouldn't hide a book on her person unless it was something she didn't want him to see. After some thought, he slipped a hand into her bodice and retrieved the book purposefully, ignoring the softer fabric of her shift and the warm skin under it.

He withdrew his arms from around the sleeping woman to look at his find.

It was a beautifully bound book and it looked somewhat familiar, though he couldn't place where he had seen it before. He opened it and the script on the page was like a kick to his gut.

It was Christine's journal.

* * *

So did anyone figure out that Erik was hallucinating in the last chapter when he called Seraph Christine?  
He doesn't remember it so… yeah; we (me, my muse and I) would still love to get reviews on the last chapter or any of the previous ones as well as this one if anyone felt inclined to do so…

When he asked her why she's upset or mad or whatever I said, I wanted soooo bad to use the thing from P.S. I Love You (if you haven't seen it then you have to go watch it right now, its an amazingly cute and sad movie… well, of course it's cute, it has Gerry Butler in it, duh.)

'"I know I should know this darlin', but, are you mad at me? Baby. Holly. I did somethin' right? I did somethin' bad right? Should I know what it is? Or is it something maybe you just think I did? No, no I did it. I did it. It was a bad, bad thing I did and I'm so sorry Love. Holly, come one, will ya? Holly wait, Baby. You have to let me in on it. Oh, you're waitin' until we're in the apartment before ya talk to me. Are ya gonna make me sleep in the bathtub again?"'

Aw, I love that movie. WARNING: Watching P.S. I Love You may cause a sudden urge to get lost in foreign countries, namely Scotland or Ireland. You have been forewarned…

Anyway, I'll shut up now so you can go review… Right?

Please?


	12. Fire and Flames

I am so sorry I took so long writing this! Been busy with school and stuff and a little writers block. And then I had inspiration on another story (or two) so I had to work on those ones…

I really do love you guys though, and I hope you all aren't mad at me for this chapter or the next few coming up. I'm so terrible to them, poor dears.

Thank yous to 13Sapphire13, The Phantom's Scholar, OprGhst, Neko-Chan4566 (for reviewing on both chapter 11 and chapter 1, thank you, I love it when people go back and review old chappies :D ), TheGrandDisciple, Chocoborider92, Phantom-Phan442 (who also reviewed twice, for chappies 10 and 11 3), and ImmortalLibra (who sparked my guilt about not updating in so long and caused me to write all this today.) Keep that in mind people, if I take too long to update just come review again ;)

So tell me what you think, and

Enjoy!

* * *

Seraph woke slowly, comfortable and warm in bed. She let out a contented sigh and a weight on the other side of the bed shifted, a hand closing around her neck. Seraph's eyes flew open and she screamed as a body pinned her to the bed, smothering her futile struggles.

A hand closed over her mouth, muffling her scream. Seraph struggled to breathe, the pressure on her throat cutting off most of her air. She stopped struggling and stared up at her attacker, belatedly recognizing Erik.

Her mind worked frantically, trying to come up with a reason, any reason, why he would be trying to kill her now. She had thought maybe he wouldn't murder her since he'd had so many opportunities and hadn't hurt her. Apparently she'd been wrong.

His eyes were filled with pain and uncontrollable rage as he stared down at her. He was wearing his mask again, Seraph noted dimly as her vision grayed.

She wouldn't, couldn't fight this or him, so she relaxed, ready to accept her fate. There had been many times that she'd almost wished for something like this to happen, it was probably her just deserts. Maybe if she'd behaved better when her parents were still alive and not argued about her bedtime.

Perhaps seeking revenge had been wrong and she was being punished. Whatever the case, she was going to die at Erik's hand and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

The pressure on her throat lessened and she dimly heard Erik coughing, heard someone draw in a gasping breath of air and realized that it had been her.

She closed her eyes, concentrating on breathing, drawing one lungful of searing air through her bruised windpipe at a time.

By the time she could open her eyes again, Erik had stopped coughing, though now he was lying on the bed, hands pressed to either side of his head as though it pained him.

His eyes were closed and his breathing ragged as Seraph struggled out of the bed, retreating shakily to the lake cavern.

She couldn't believe that he had been going to kill her and that he'd almost succeeded.

Guilt winged through her as she released that she still hadn't tended his head. She hadn't even checked to see how badly injured he was. A head injury would certainly explain his strange behaviors lately, first kissing her, then calling her Christine, and now attempting to kill her. Therefore, it was partly her fault.

Seraph blinked away the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks, refusing to be reduced to crying again.

Part of her wanted to go see if Erik was all right but she knew she wouldn't be able to stand to see him again right now, wouldn't be able to stand seeing the hate and rage in his eyes again.

Pushing pack the emotions that wanted to swamp her, Seraph raked her fingers through her mussed hair and made her way to the passage that led up to the rest of her home. She needed to get a ways away from him for now at least and she could see if the fire was still going, and if not, how bad the damage was.

As she made her way steadily upward, Seraph was surprised that she didn't smell smoke yet. She wasn't far from the entrance to the kitchen when she finally did catch a whiff of charred wood. She frowned as she cautiously surveyed the room before stepping out. There were scorch marks around the door but other than that there was no sign of a fire. She walked to the door and slowly opened it, finding the corridor outside also strangely untouched.

At the end of the corridor she noticed a small puddle that had mostly dried but was still wet in the middle. She crouched down and hesitantly dipped the tip of one of her fingers into the fluid, bringing it up to her nose. It was gasoline. Someone had presumably poured gasoline on the door before lighting it, hoping the fire would spread.

She straightened and quickly worked her way through the rest of her theatre, going around corners and doorways carefully in case whoever had set the fire was still around. There were three more doors that had been burned and there was some damage in the rooms and hallways on either side of those doors but there was nothing that couldn't be repaired.

She paused outside the auditorium, taking a deep breath and stealing herself before opening the door. As she had suspected, there were scorch marks covering the stage and the heavy velvet drapes were still smoldering, exuding acrid black smoke that billowed in huge waves up to the high ceilings which were totally obscured in darkness and smoke.

Some of the seats had been burned as well, but nothing was still burning except the drapes.

Ignoring the pain she felt that someone would do this to her beautiful home, Seraph made her way to the stage, clambering up onto it. She wanted to go up into the rigging and cut down the curtains but many of the ropes had burned and she didn't trust her weight to the ones that hadn't burned.

Her throat throbbed in agony and she coughed, the action painful. The smoke wasn't doing her any good and there was nothing she could do to save the rest of the fabric even if she could get it down.

Breathing as shallowly as possible, Seraph went back out of the auditorium. She was halfway up the stairs when she heard footsteps and soft voices coming towards the bottom of the stairs. There was no way that she would be able to get to the top and hide in time so she stepped up onto the railing, hiding behind one of the human sized statues there. She pulled her skirts in as close to her body as she could, hoping desperately that whoever it was wouldn't see her.

"There was no sign of her?" A man's voice asked. The voice was familiar, but Seraph couldn't place it.

"No, none. There was little sign anyone had been here at all except the scorch marks. The stage will probably have to be replaced as well," said a second man, this one older. Seraph definitely recognized his voice, but again, she wasn't sure who it was.

"Do you think she's alright Father? Surely there would be some sign of a struggle if she was…" The last voice was female and trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Seraph knew who they were now, recognizing Amelia's voice. She stepped from behind the statue, not really thinking through how they might react to her sudden appearance.

"What brings you here?" Seraph asked, though her gratitude was apparent in her tone as she trotted down the steps.

Amelia clutched at her heart, her face draining of color, while her brother and father's eyes widened in shock.

Seraph hugged Amelia, tears in her eyes. "Why are you here? Thank you for coming but… my house isn't quite in a state for visitors…"

"Y-your not a ghost, right Seraphina?" Amelia asked falteringly.

Seraph pulled back from her friend with a smile. "Of course not. It takes more than a little fire to kill me."

"Oh, I'm so glad you're all right!" Amelia exclaimed, taking in Seraph's mussed appearance. "What happened to you? Are you hur-" Amelia broke off, her gaze on Seraph's throat. "'Phina, who- who-?" Amelia struggled for words then finally gave up and pulled Seraph into a tight hug.

"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.

"I'm fine, really I am. I just misjudged where the rug was and caught my neck on the table as I fell." Seraph said, though she hated to lie to her friend. It wasn't as though she could tell her the truth after all. Who would believe that the Phantom of the opera was living with her and had gotten mad or whatever had happened that caused him to try to kill her?

Amelia released her and Adam took one of Seraph's hands, turning her towards him and examining her neck. He didn't say anything, but it was clear that none of them believed her story. She hadn't really expected them to.

* * *

Erik held his head as thoughts and memories swirled and intertwined with his pounding headache. His throat was raw from the coughs and he was tired. He couldn't decide if he was glad or not that he hadn't killed the lying woman whom he had almost allowed to earn his trust.

After she had scrambled away from him the underground world had been still and silent, which he was grateful for. He got up slowly and found some cloths and a dish, going down to the water and filling the dish with the cold, clear water. He carried it back to the bedroom and soaked the cloths, laying down and putting one of the rags across his forehead. The pounding in his head lessened slightly and he closed his eyes, to tired to think.

He drifted into the depths of sleep and dreamed.

_He was on a stage filled with leaping, dancing flames, and heard his name called. He looked to one side of the stage and saw Christine beckoning to him. He took several steps toward her before an anguished cry from behind stopped him. _

_He looked back, seeing Seraphina amid the flames, calling desperately for him to save her. He looked back to Christine, who was now also surrounded by fire. He would only be able to save one, but which should he choose?_

_A sharp pain flashed through his head and he spun around to see his keeper from his days as the Devil's Child towering over him with a stick, beginning to beat him._

_Erik felt around for something to defend himself with and felt something like a rope. He snatched it up and managed to get behind the gypsy, strangling him with the rope. He looked toward where Christine had been, but she was gone, as was Seraph when he looked for her. His gaze turned to the rope in his hands and he saw that it wasn't a rope; rather it was a long strand of red hair, the same color hair as Seraph's._

_For some reason the sight made him afraid and enraged, and he howled his fury in an animal cry that echoed through the building._

_He looked up to see the sneering face of Raoul de Chagny as Christine wrapped her arms around the other man, her face a mask of loathing, pity, and fear as she looked back at him._

"_Christine, you don't need that _thing._ Come away with me, I won't let anyone harm you…" the Vicomte told Christine, his voice cold as he continued to sneer at Erik._

_Christine nodded, agreeing with Raoul._

_There was a horrific noise behind him and Erik turned to see La Carlotta there, singing just as horribly as he remembered. He glared at her and noticed the perverted Joseph Bouquet leering lecherously at someone he couldn't make out and he moved closer, intent on disposing of the man again. As he drew near, he saw that he was leering at Seraph. Erik's vision gained a slightly red hue and he gutted the man._

_A woman's scream rang out and he looked around for Seraph, wanting to take her away somewhere safer than here. She was staring at him in horror and cringed back, cowering when he tried to approach her. There were red marks around her normally pale neck in vaguely the shape as a hand, as though someone had tried to strangle her and there was a dark bruise on her cheek. _

_He dropped to his knees, reaching out desperately, wanting her to give him her trust one more time._

_Suddenly he felt ropes and chains binding him and saw police men with guns all around, Raoul standing behind them with a triumphant look on his face. Seraph's eyes widened and she reached for him only to have her hand grasped by a young man that Erik didn't recognize. A young man that Seraph turned to with love shining in her clear blue eyes. The man, more of a boy really, murmured something in her ear that made Seraph smile happily and giggle._

_Pain tore through him as he realized that he had never made her look that happy, never earned a laugh from her._

_A noose dropped around his neck and he realized that he was on a gallows, Christine watching from the safety of Raoul's arms, Seraph from the embrace of her apparent lover. The floor dropped out from under him and he felt himself falling, the noose pulling tight… _

Erik sat up, breathing raggedly and drenched in sweat and his head pounded in loud protest at the sudden movement.

He pressed his palms to the sides of his head, startled to encounter cloth there. Someone had wrapped a bandage around his head. The ends were tied in a small, tidy bow which indicated a female had done it, which was probably a good guess considering there was only one person he knew of that would have bandaged his head, much less known how to get down here.

His dream had already faded and he didn't remember what had been so terrible about it, but he was still filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

Soft footfalls approached the bedroom and he relaxed back onto the pillows, closing his eyes and feigning slumber as Seraph entered. She hesitated in the doorway, then came over to the bed.

"Erik?" she asked, her voice soft, "If you're awake I have some more soup here if you want it."

He stayed still and after a moment she set the bowl on the small table next to the bed before slipping out of the room again without another word.

He frowned slightly, not remembering what had transpired during their last interaction. He had thought she would try a little harder to wake him up and it seemed out of character for her to give up without really even trying.

He picked up the soup and ate it silently, his eyes roving the room restlessly.

* * *

Seraph looked around for something to do. She'd had a long conversation with Amelia, Adam, and their father before returning underground to check on Erik. She'd been terrified to go into the bedroom again, knowing he would be there, but he'd been asleep.

He had a gash on the back of his head and she'd managed to clean it and bandage him without disturbing his sleep, which had surprised her.

She had been relieved that he hadn't woken up but it had also concerned her. It wasn't like him to sleep that deeply.

She probably should have woken him up when she had brought him soup but she didn't think she could face him yet. He was a good man, she knew that, and he'd saved her life, but waking up to find him trying to kill her would be a hard thing to forgive, especially when her neck throbbed with every breath.

Finally, she picked up a few sheets of paper and went over to a table, clearing a space for herself to work. She sketched out the basic floor plan for the living areas in the theatre, adding in the secret passages.

There were several good sized family suites at the end of the wing, most with windows, though there was only one with both windows and an entrance to the passages, though there were ways to see into all of them.

She studied the position of the suites in relation to the rest of the theatre and nodded, satisfied. It was in a good, central location but it was still far enough out of the way that no one would be likely to venture there without invitation.

She would furnish it and set it up nicely so that she could, for all intensive purposes, live there, at least as far as the world was concerned.

She had discussed her plans for opening the theatre in greater detail with Adam, Amelia, and their father and they thought it would be an excellent idea for her to get started on the project so that she could get more of the public eye on the goings on here. Make it so that the general populace would notice if she suddenly disappeared or was killed in some "accident."

There was a soft sound behind her and Seraph turned, her eyes wide, backing against the table. She tried to hide the fear she felt welling up at the sight of the Phantom standing there but it was hard. She still wasn't sure why he'd gone beserk in the first place and wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

She couldn't meet his gaze, but if she had she might have seen the pain and flicker of confusion in his eyes at her display of fear, but then his eyes dropped to the bruise on her throat and remembrance dawned.

He took a step back and she glanced up at his face for a moment, though she only saw the anger there, assuming it was directed at her, not seeing the deep regret or that the anger was being directed inward.

"Seraphina," he began, his voice quiet, "I never intended to hurt you, I-"

For whatever insane reason she herself didn't understand, Seraph looked up at him, her eyes flashing. "Like hell you didn't mean to hurt me you bastard," she hissed, wanting to yell but knowing that would hurt her throat.

Erik's eyes narrowed slightly, though he knew he deserved it. "I wasn't in my right mind, Seraph. You should have told me you knew Christine."

Seraph's anger melted away, replaced by understanding. She had yet to finish reading the journal but she knew the story didn't end happily for the Phantom.

"I-I don't know her," Seraph said softly, "I only met her once." She tried not to flinch back as he took a step forward but her mind replayed the time when he'd struck her and she couldn't help her reflex reaction. He stopped where he was and she chanced a look up into his eyes, this time seeing the pain and self-loathing there.

Her heart wanted to tell him that it hadn't been his fault but she knew that it had indeed been his fault and it would be a long time before she was going to feel safe near him.

Silently, he turned and slipped out of sight.

* * *

Please


	13. From Everything to Nothing

Well, here's another update for you wonderful people, I feel so terrible for not doing it more often. But I've had a rather difficult few weeks, what with difficult school assignments and getting used to my babysitting job (yay, I have an income now! I'm a happy teenager now!)… Yeah. And yes, I'm on a sugar high right now. I _love_ holidays!!!

I HOPE EVERYONE HAD A GREAT EASTER!!! If you do that sort of thing at least :P

And here is where I would customarily thank my readers and reviewers…

And I won't break with customs so, to all of you that are reading this, I love you all and you make me happy, I do hope you're enjoying my phic (though if you're still reading this far along in the story, I rather suspect you might be ;) ).

And to my most belovedest of reviewers, (and yes, of course that's a word… just, uh, don't look it up… Sugar and caffeine truly do amazing things to the mind. Wow. _Anywho…_)

ImmortalLibra, Phantom-Phan442, Following My Own Footsteps, Chocoborider92, Fox Alder, Tavaril, and AngelicMinx were wonderful enough to review in the interim between chapters here, you guys are the best, thank you.

I love hearing for you guys and- OH! I almost _forgot! _Did y'all know that there's a soundtrack _already out_ for Love Never Dies, the sequel to our most beloved Phantom?! Some of you might already have it and I'm interested to hear whether it's any good. I know that there's a lot of controversy over there being a sequel in the Phandom (though if you're reading this you presumably don't mind stuff about Erik's live after POTO)…

Am I being boring? Probably. Without further adieu, I give you the- Wait! No nevermind, I forgot…- Next chapter of- Oh, I remember!!! This chapter's longer than usual, I'm so proud of myself! Er, yeah, I'll stop interupting myself now. I suspect I might be making an international fool out of myself (I adore you people from other countries that click on my story. I don't know if you read it or not but...)- Angel Of Hope.

Enjoy!

* * *

Erik cursed himself and his temper harshly. There was no excuse for what he had done. Normally he was in better control of himself and wouldn't have let the wave of anger at the sight of Christine's handwriting overpower him like that. He honestly hadn't intended to harm Seraphina, who had taken him in and been kind to him, though she'd certainly had plenty of reasons not to do so.

He coughed hoarsely, his throat sore from the amount of coughing he'd been doing. His thoughts were a bit sluggish and he felt like he was burning up. Finally, he admitted to himself that he was ill. He groaned, sitting back down on the bed. He was fairly sure that he hadn't spent as much time in bed in his entire life as he had in the past few days.

He needed to work on his reactions around the young woman, for this wasn't the first time he had hurt and frightened her and he would be very lucky if their relationship, if it could even be deemed as such, could recover. He'd had to save her from rape and death in order to redeem himself after half-strangling a man who had been vandalizing her home, what was there that he could do as penance this time? What might possibly be done to her that she would see as worse than him attacking her? More than that, what would he be able to prevent from happening to her?

Another fit of coughing wracked him and after it had passed he sighed, moving over to the box of books that was in the room. After a while he selected one and returned to the bed, reclining back on the pillows and opening the book. He'd already read this one but it had been enjoyable so he might as well read it again.

* * *

Seraphina sagged the instant the masked enigma that was Erik left her sight. She wanted to be able to forgive him and forget that he'd tried to kill her, she longed to be in his arms and cradled against his strong chest, and that scared her. She had no real reason to have those feelings for him, he certainly hadn't earned them.

With a frustrated huff, she walked to a fairly large side-chamber off the main lake cavern that had a mostly flat floor. She began to do her stretches, which she had neglected for far too long.

Soon, her muscles were aching as she mercilessly worked herself. She would probably be a bit sore later but it took her mind off thoughts of _him_. After she had gone through all her stretches and several of the dances that she knew by heart she was feeling more herself, her mind numb from purposefully not thinking about anything. She went into the bedroom and froze in the entrance as she realized her error. Erik, who was reading, looked up at her, his mask still in place and his face unreadable.

He regarded her silently and she bit her lip slightly, her gaze moving away from him uncomfortably. Christine's journal was resting on the floor beside the bed and she went to retrieve it. She had to get closer to Erik to pick it up, but that wasn't the end of the world.

Hesitantly, she bent and got the book, straightening and turning to leave the room again immediately. A hand closed around her wrist and she turned back to the bed, ready to fight him. His gaze locked with hers and he released her wrist a mere moment after he had touched it, leaving her to almost wonder if he'd grabbed it at all.

He looked as though he wanted to say something and his gaze dropped to the book in her hand. After another moment, he turned away silently.

Seraph stared at him in confusion. Was he going to say whatever it was that he'd wanted to? After a few more moments she realized that he wasn't going to. With a frown she turned away, but something made her look back.

His eyes were slightly glazed over and he looked vaguely ill. Seraph scowled and closed the remaining distance to the bed, tearing away his mask without ceremony.

Erik, taken by surprise, jerked away from her touch, his eyes flashing angrily as he snarled.

Seraph stared at him. Had he just growled at her? Then she looked down at the mask and she mentally berated herself. She should know better. She set the mask in his hand and felt his forehead with the back of her own hand, trying not to think about what she was doing. He definitely had a fever and if you added that to the fact he had a head injury, it excused him from a certain amount of odd behavior, but Seraph wasn't going to just pretend nothing was his fault because he'd hit his head.

She glared down at Erik, placing her hand on his chest and pushing the surprised man down onto the bed.

"You're sick, lay down and stay there." She ordered firmly, going out to the main cavern, his coughs following her out. She made a pot of tea with the hot water that was already heated and after it was done steeping she poured a cup, carrying it in to Erik. She scowled at him as she thrust it into his hands then turned her irritated gaze to the three purring lumps of fur curled near the man, one kitten by his feet, another at his side and the third resting comfortably on his chest.

"Traitors," she muttered as she met Erik's ever-unreadable gaze, noting the weariness there.

"Drink that and take a nap," she ordered grumpily, giving the kittens another glare as she flounced out to sulk on the cold, uncomfortable couch all by herself with no Erik or kittens to cuddle with. The fact that half of her still wanted to curl up with Erik and the kittens only served to worsen her mood further.

Resolutely, she opened the book and flipped through to the page she'd been on and began to read. As she read, her anger faded, replaced by horror as the Phantom's entire opera house plotted against him. She wondered what Erik had been doing during all this, had he been watching? They couldn't take him unaware, could they? No, probably not, since he was here with her.

She read about the rehearsals, astonished at the way they degraded and mocked his work. She was amazed that that he hadn't killed them all and the speed with which they forgot their fear of the Phantom astounded her.

Erik coughed hoarsely, and the sound was closer than it should have been if he were in bed. She looked up from the book, renewing her glare. Erik met her eyes and continued closer to her without hesitating. She forced herself not to move as he came to a stop within reach. She stared into his blue-gray eyes, wanting to force him to look away first but eventually, it was her that broke eye contact.

The man set a couple of blankets on the couch next to her. "I thought you might be cold," he murmured before suppressing another cough.

Seraph glared at him. "Go back to bed Erik, before you catch your death."

A slightly smug expression flitted across his face and she clarified coldly, "I don't want to have to find somewhere to leave your carcass. I've had to drag you around enough already."

His eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything, merely turning and walking over and pouring more tea into the cup he'd carried out of the bedroom with him. Seraph returned to her book, glaring at the page rather than actually reading until she heard a soft sigh from Erik as he returned to bed.

She really didn't want to have to deal with a corpse and she couldn't stay here and nurse him until he got better in his own time, or at least that was what she told herself as she set the book aside and got the heated rocks from beside the fire. She carried several into the bedroom, ignoring the startled looks she got from the kittens and Erik as she tucked them into the bedding alongside the man.

Seraph made several trips, as there were more rocks than she could carry at one time, carefully avoiding meeting Erik's gaze. After she placed the last on under the blankets on the bed she turned to him with a scowl.

"Stay in bed and rest. If you need something then ask me for it," she ordered before stalking back out to the main cavern. She put more fuel on the fire before returning to the couch and curling up under the blankets. Once again, she opened the book and began to read. Christine described Don Juan Triumphant and Seraph very much wished she could have seen it, or even just heard the music that Erik had written. It might help her to understand him better, so that she could distance herself from him.

Erik came onto the stage in one of the acts and Seraph couldn't help the glance she shot towards the bedroom. It hadn't occurred to her that he might be a singer as well as a composer. Her distaste of Christine and Raoul only increased as she read the terrible things that Christine thought about him; though some of them she found she understood. He was a difficult man to comprehend and he didn't suffer fools. She did want to hear his side of the story though; she would be interested to hear how he'd made the chandelier fall.

He'd sent Raoul and Christine away mostly unharmed at the end, though he could have killed Raoul and taken Christine with him when he left. Christine had gone back and returned the ring to him, even after he confessed his love for her. Seraph remembered the ring that she'd found in Erik's room and her eyes widened with the sudden pity that filled her. She couldn't imagine being left that brutally. Christine's only comment explanation for leaving him the ring was that she didn't want the memories attached and that if he had it, at least he would have something to remember her by.

Christine was cruel; to want him to remember her even though she was leaving him to marry another man, and Seraph wasn't sure what she would do if she ever met the Vicomtesse again. Her dislike of Christine had nothing to do with Erik, Seraph assured herself, she merely didn't think Christine was a person who chose her friends wisely.

Seraphina set the book aside and pulled the blankets closer around her shoulders with a shiver, thankful that Erik had brought them out to her, though she wouldn't admit that to him. She rested her head back and closed her eyes, at first trying to think but giving up fairly quickly. There was too much to think about, the day had been very eventful.

As she drifted off into sleep, Seraph wondered how many people would respond to the ad that Amelia was going to place in the daily paper for cleaning and repair workers.

* * *

Seraph woke some time later, cold and stiff from her uncomfortable position on the couch. Most of the candles had one out, leaving the room lit only in with the red glow from the fire, which was getting low again. Seraph scowled and got to her feet with a groan, walking over and putting more wood in the flames.

That done, she looked with distaste at the couch, remembering the soft warmth in her bed. But instead of her, Erik and her kittens were there, sleeping peacefully. There was another mattress in the bedroom, but there weren't any sheets or blankets on it.

With exceeding reluctance, Seraph went back to the couch, curling into a corner with the blankets and trying to get warm.

Finally, she managed to get to sleep again, though it was a fitful slumber.

* * *

The next time she woke up, it was to the sound of Erik coughing. She frowned and got stiffly to her feet. She had no idea how long she'd slept but she knew that she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep right now anyway. She walked over to the fire and got the empty pot from its place nearby, filling it with water and setting it on to heat, adding some more fuel to the fire while she was there. That done, she went back over to the couch and pulled a blanket around her shoulders with a shiver, frowning as her mind reminded her of the warm, cuddly kittens asleep with _him_.

After the water was hot, Seraph made another pot of tea, taking a cup of it in to Erik. She hesitated in the bedroom doorway, but he was asleep. Softly, she moved over to the bed and set the tea down on the small table next to it, studying the sleeping Phantom's face. He looked so peaceful, his usually unreadable face soft and unguarded. As she watched, a shadow seemed to cross his face, his features twisting. Suddenly he looked much different, his face etched with pain and perhaps a touch of fear. What could frighten the unmovable rock that was Erik, Seraph wondered with a touch of uneasiness.

Spice, one of the kittens, the one on his chest, got to her feet and mewed, stretching and looking expectantly up at Seraph. Seraphina scooped the kitten up and stroked her, though Spice pushed away immediately, giving Seraph a disapproving look and mewing again, making it plain that the human had grossly misinterpreted her demand for attention. Seraph smiled and kissed the kitten's nose before setting the affronted creature back down on the bed. Still smiling, she looked at Erik's face only to find him awake and watching her, an odd expression on his face. Seraph didn't register the slight wistfulness that crept into his gaze as her smile died a quick and painful death. She scowled at him.

"There's a cup of tea there next to the bed and if you want more later there's a pot of it by the fire."

His expression was guarded again as he retorted, "I was under the impression that my self-appointed warden had forbid me to leave this bed. Is that no longer true?"

Seraph's eyes narrowed. "Some of us actually have work to do since _some_ of us have opera houses to run. Unlike you, I actually care that my theatre could have burned down and I intend to prevent further similar occurrences." She belatedly realized that she had stepped over an invisible boundary as his face darkened. Seraph took several steps back, which he noted coldly, a predatory gleam in his hard eyes.

Silence reigned for a moment, and then Seraphina turned and fled the room. She wasn't sure why her heart ached so at having him look at her like that, at though he hated her, but it did hurt. She scolded herself for still caring about him, even as she realized that it was true. Despite his faults, she cared about him and she wished she could take her last comments back. She hadn't meant to be so cruel; the Opera Populaire had been his home.

She dashed the unbidden tears from her cheeks as she ducked into the passage that led up to her opera house, remembering the hurt she had felt at having someone burn her home and wondering how much more it would have hurt to destroy your own home for the sake of love, only to have the person for whom you had sacrificed so much walk away from you, to go and marry another.

* * *

Her smile was beautiful. He had opened his eyes thinking of her, and there she had been, standing by the bed with a kitten in her arms and a smile lighting her face. His heart had warmed as she had kissed the kitten and he had wanted to pull her to him and hold her. He'd had a horrifying dream where Raoul and a score of police had captured him and held him back as his old gypsy keeper from his days as the Devil's Child threw his Seraph in a cage.

Her eyes had been sparkling merrily as she looked at him, and his heart had risen in hope. He had thought for a moment that perhaps she had decided to forgive him, and then she had scowled darkly at him, her mouth tightening as her eyes had narrowed slightly.

Her instant change of expression and mood upon seeing that he was awake had hurt, but not nearly as much as her next words had. Perhaps he shouldn't have goaded her by calling her his warden, but that was what it felt like she was trying to do when she ordered him to stay in bed. He wasn't helpless and he disliked being treated as such.

It was true that he had been the cause of the fire at his opera house and he deeply regretted that, but it wasn't her place to speak to him as she had.

The fear on her face as he glared at her coldly though, had reminded him of her just reasons for not trusting or liking him. If only the foolish woman hadn't been smiling when he'd opened his eyes… No, it wasn't that she had smiled, if she hadn't stopped smiling as soon as she looked at him, that entire scenario would have never taken place and they would have both been better off.

His gaze turned to the bedside table and, true to her word, there was a streaming cup of tea there. Erik's brow furrowed as he internally debated Seraphina's conflicting actions. She acted like she hated him, and yet she continued to do little things that hinted to him that there might still be a chance that she didn't loath him. If he could find a way to regain her trust it might bring him a bit of relief. Surely helping her in whatever way he was able to would remove the burden of guilt he carried for at least one of the terrible things he had done. Just one smile from her. If he could get a single smile, he might be able to stand himself. Idly, he stroked the kitten next to him, who began to purr contentedly.

* * *

By the time Seraph reached the kitchen, she was composed again and ready for a long day of cleaning. She made her way through the halls and dimly heard an echo of her name being called. She recognized Amelia's voice and followed the sound to the main entrance. When she appeared, Amelia's face brightened.

"You know 'Phina, you really need to give me a way to find you. I was about ready to go and look for you, but then I probably would have gotten lost and no one would have ever seen me again. You should take the boards off the windows too and let a little light in here. Do you even know what time it is? I don't imagine that you do, not being able to see when the sun comes up and all."

Seraph listened to her friend, a small, amused smile on her lips. That had always been one of the things she'd liked the best about Amelia, she was almost never content with silence and had real talent for filling the air with interesting, or at the very least amusing one-sided conversations. Seraphina was much more quiet by nature, though she found that she could discuss almost anything with Amelia, who managed to make everything flow smoothly.

"No, I'm afraid I don't know what time it is," Seraph admitted a little sheepishly.

Amelia shook her finger at Seraph mock-sternly. "For shame! I'll have to remedy that, shant I? It's almost noon actually and moving on to other matters, there are three women here that responded to the ad I put in the paper for you, and that's just this morning. They're waiting outside since I couldn't find you."

"Three already? That was a little fast, don't you think?" Seraph asked, surprised.

Amelia shook her head. "You really don't keep up with the times, do you? A few of the larger companies are starting to lay off workers since they don't need as many anymore with their new machines that they're using. Therefore, there are more people looking for work. I wouldn't be surprised if you have a good sized crew working for you within the week," Amelia stated matter-of-factly.

"So fast, I'm impressed. I picked the right time I guess," Seraphina murmured.

"That you did. So, should I fetch them in? They're willing to start work today if that's alright…?" Amelia looked a little hesitantly at Seraph, who nodded.

"That's fine, as long as they leave when they're supposed to."

Amelia smiled and slipped out the door.

Seraph's thoughts turned to Erik, and she wondered if he was all right. What if he had gotten up to get something and had fallen? What if he was laying somewhere on the cold stone floor calling for her to help him? She forcibly reminded herself that he wouldn't ask for her help, even if he needed it. He couldn't care less about her presence, as his expression had shown just a little while ago. She was doing important work and he could wait.

Amelia returned with three women behind her and Seraph brushed aside her thoughts of Erik.

" 'Phina, we worked out all the details already while we were waiting to see if you would grace us with your presence, so if you would show them where the supplies are and where you want them to start, they can get to work while I fill you in." Amelia told her friend a little apologetically.

Seraph nodded and led the way to the supply closet.

Seraph decided to have the women start cleaning in the main entrance, and she and Amelia watched as they swept, mopped, and removed cobwebs.

"I told them to come everyday except Sundays, from eight to six with an hour in the middle of the day to eat their lunches, and we agreed on the pay rate, which is an excellent amount for both sides. Madeline, the one sweeping, said that her husband is good at fixing things and that he's looking for a job as well, if you'll hire him."

Seraph nodded in acceptance. "If you think it's a good idea, then that's fine. I don't think I'll be able to ever thank you enough for all the help you're being. This wouldn't happen without you." Seraphina hesitated, "Amelia, if you're willing, I would like to hire you as a manager and have you run things for me. I'm not really used to dealing with people and-" She broke off, not sure how to continue.

Amelia grinned, "You have gotten a little out of practice lately, but I'm really not surprised you know. Especially since your sense of time seems to have disappeared."

Seraph smiled back, grateful that Amelia was so willing to help her. Her thoughts must have shown in her expression because Amelia chuckled.

"Come on, if I don't help you I won't be able to come and see plays and operas here. You need to establish a way I can find you though."

Seraphina nodded, "I've already worked that out, come, I'll show you where I'll be staying."

* * *

So, I love hearing you guys' thoughts and you should all know by now that getting loads of reviews or, well, okay, any number of reviews makes me write faster. Well, that and muse, but that's different. So unless I think of anything else… Wait for it… huh, nope, nothin'. I thought I would have more to say… Oh well, I'll free you from any uh, lingering desire to listen (or would it be read…) to my ramblings. You know, it really can be dangerous to give me too much candy.

Please


	14. Forgiveness

Yay, another chapter! Well, I really am looking forward to hearing you guys' thoughts and/or comments. I bet that if you all really wanted to we could get the reviews up to eighty… Wow, I would be so thrilled, I would probably do my very, absolute best to post in the next few days if I did get a ton of reviews… But even if I don't, I still love y'all.

Big thank yous to Phantom's-Only-Christine, xxxQueenOfTheDarknessxxx, AmethystBlack061, Neko-chan4566, AngelicMinx, and EasleyGirl101 for your lovely reviews on the last chapter :D

And all the people reading this should feel special too, because this whole story would be a bit pointless without you haha… yeah…

And maybe at some point I should probably throw in a thank you to my sis, whom is a great sport about knowing pretty much nothing about the story, yet is remarkably able to give me semi-usable ideas. We shouldn't let it get to her head though, because there are those other times when I seriously consider spoofing my own phic just so I can write something with her really stupid ideas :P

Anyways, enough boring author-note stuff,

Enjoy!

* * *

Seraph showed Amelia the suite of rooms she had picked out that she would "live in." Her friend didn't say a word until after Seraph had shown her through the rooms.

" 'Phina, I wish you would trust me," Amelia said softly.

Seraph looked at her a little sadly. "I wish I could. You understand though, don't you? I will tell you eventually, I just can't afford to at this point."

Amelia nodded. "I know, and I do understand. I wouldn't tell anyone where I was actually staying if my uncle was trying to kill me either."

Seraphina smiled, "It sounds so dismal when you put it that way. I prefer to think of it as having a grand adventure that no one but me knows about."

Amelia giggled, "Oh, well I'm sorry for making it sound dismal, goodness!" She hesitated, "You do plan to make it look more lived in though, right?"

Seraph blinked owlishly at her. "It does look lived in! Doesn't everyone keep cloths over their furniture and a thick, undisturbed layer of dust and grime across every surface?"

Amelia laughed and touched Seraph's shoulder. "It's good to hear you joke 'Phina, and I'm very glad that your rooms have windows. You could use more light."

Seraph shrugged. "Yes, I'll enjoy the light but I don't mind the darkness, it's friendly most of the time. We're sort of kin I suppose."

Amelia stared at her for a long moment. "And that would be exactly why you need more exposure to light. A bit more human companionship wouldn't go amiss either. You don't have anything planned in the next few weeks, do you?"

Seraph frowned and shook her head hesitantly, "No, I don't think so, other than all the things I have to do here… Why?"

Amelia beamed at her and Seraph took a step back, eyeing her friend's frighteningly happy expression warily.

"Excellent, that's absolutely superb 'Phina! It happens that there's an event coming up this week, you'll love it. Madam Bonnaire is hosting a masquerade ball. I still need a costume, you should come with me and get one too."

Seraph hesitated. "Wouldn't I need in invitation?"

Now it was Amelia who paused to think. "No," she said after a few moments, "I can get you in."

Seraphina sighed as her only plausible excuse that Amelia would have accepted was shot down mercilessly. "All right, I'll go with you. What day is it?"

Amelia stared at her in astonishment. " 'Phina, you really need to get out and interact with people more, this is Monday."

Seraph blinked in surprised amusement. "No, no, I know what day today is, when is the ball?"

A slightly sheepish expression replaced Amelia's previous one, which had been vaguely horrified. "Oh, the ball is next Sunday, but we should find costumes before then, perhaps on Wednesday?"

Reluctantly, Seraph agreed, "Sounds like a good idea. I'll take a look around at what I have here that we could use as well."

Seraph hadn't thought it was possible, but it almost looked as though Amelia's smile widened.

"Perfect," she exclaimed, "I have someone I want you to meet, but I'm not going to say another word about it until Sunday, so don't even ask."

Seraph opened her mouth to do just that but Amelia held up one finger.

"No, I'm not going to say a word."

Seraph closed her mouth again with a glower, and sighed. "Fine, well, we should probably go and do something to help out…"

Amelia glanced around the rooms again. " 'Phina, I think getting these rooms cleaned up should be the first thing that you do. Would you like my help?"

Seraph looked around as well, her eyes resting for a moment on the wall of bookshelves, one of which concealed the passage down to the caverns and Erik. She nodded a little reluctantly to Amelia.

"Yes, that would be wonderful, thank you." Having her friend present would prevent her idiotic and absolutely foolish urges to go and check on how her Phantom was doing. She shook her head, hating that she had to remind herself that Erik wasn't, nor ever would be, hers.

Amelia gave her a strange look, but didn't comment. However, the young woman couldn't help but wonder what man her friend had met, who had her heart in such a fragile state. That was the impression that Amelia got from Seraphina's expressions at least, though she couldn't really think of where her childhood friend would have met a man, much less one worthy of her.

* * *

Seraph released a weary sigh as she closed and locked the door behind Amelia and the cleaning ladies. It had been a long and exhausting day, but they had gotten a lot done. Seraph looked around the entryway. For the first time in years, the floor shined, freshly swept and mopped, the wicks in all the gaslights along the walls had been replaced, though they weren't on. Tomorrow, one of the cleaning ladies' husbands was going to come and help with more of the heavy lifting. Perhaps she should have him remove the boards off the windows as well to let a little natural light inside.

Wisps of her hair were coming down from the braid that she'd put her hair up in to keep it out of her way as she worked, so she slowly began undoing it as she trudged upstairs again. She desperately wanted to go and see how Erik was, but she knew that if she did she might end up apologizing to him. She refused to do that, her words had been justified and she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her grovel for his forgiveness. Indeed, the last expression she had seen on his face gave her little hope that he would even be willing to forgive her, though in reality it was she who had yet to forgive him.

Seraphina massaged her temples, attempting to assuage the headache that now roared through her tired head. She paused and looked around, only now realizing that she had come to her old set of rooms instead of the ones that she had been dutifully cleaning today, with the very welcome assistance of Amelia. With a long, drawn out sigh, she slipped into the room that had been Erik's, she wasn't sure why, but for some reason she did.

The room was cool and dark as she went over to the bed, sinking down tiredly. Out of the corner of her eye, something white caught her attention. It was draped over the back of a chair and she got to her feet again with a moan to investigate.

It was a garment of some sort, a thick and heavy black fabric lined with soft white fur, which had caught her attention. She picked it up with a smile, bringing it up to her face. It smelled of Erik.

She tested the weight experimentally, then swept the cloak around her shoulders, her smile widening as it swirled dramatically. It was a garment suited to the Phantom, and to the enigmatic man named Erik.

The cloak was cool against her skin at first, but it warmed quickly and she yawned. She knew that she couldn't risk going through the passages when she was this tired, there was too great a chance that she would trigger one of the traps or darts. Her gaze fell on the bed again and she went over to it, crawling into the middle.

Yawning again, she cuddled up in the soft fur that lined Erik's cloak, closing her eyes with a gentle smile playing about her lips. She fell asleep with the realization that, despite her best efforts, she had forgiven Erik for his wrongdoings, and that there was no way she could escape from her love for him.

* * *

Erik looked at the pocket watch again, for probably the third time in the past ten minutes. She had been gone all day and he had given her space, though now he was beginning to wonder if something had happened to her. Had her uncle's hired thugs come back? Had he frightened her too badly?

He had made dinner for the two of them, thinking that she would be back by then, but night had fallen and there was still no sign of her.

He was feeling significantly better, though not yet fully recovered, and he had searched all day for something interesting to do. He had done a few small tasks perhaps not befitting the Phantom of the Opera, but necessary nevertheless. He had washed a few dishes and put sheets and blankets on the second bed, guessing that Seraphina wouldn't be willing to share a bed and knowing that the couch was horrendously uncomfortable to sleep on.

After that, he had set candles around the room, replacing the stubs in the sconces. As he had tidied the blank sheets of paper he had noticed a rough sketch of, presumably, a portion of this building. Considering that it hadn't been there a few days ago, he guessed that Seraphina had drawn it. It appeared to detail living quarters.

Erik frowned, committing the map to memory quickly and going to the passage that led there. He made his way carefully, then tripped over something that had woven in between his feet. Spice mewed pitifully, looking up at him with a wounded expression, then turning her back to him and proceeding to lick her injured paw. He scooped the small kitten up and stroked her, ignoring her offended looks and attempts to jump down.

After several moments, he set her back down again and straightened. The kitten purred and rubbed against his boots and he watched her, amused by her sudden mood-shift.

When the kitten started down the passage, he noticed that she stayed to the right side of the passage for several paces before turning and walking across to the left side and continuing for another several paces, then moving to the exact middle of the passage.

He followed her movements, at first testing each step carefully, then, when he hadn't found any traps in the kitten's chosen path, he moved more confidently behind her, trusting her feline instincts.

After a while the passage leveled out and he noted the openings on either side of the hall, some were one-way mirrors similar to those that he'd had at the Opera Populaire, though much smaller than the one in the dressing room. There were also a few peepholes that presumable looked out of paintings in the rooms.

When he reached the only doorway in this hallway, he carefully stepped through, looking around.

Someone had definitely been busy cleaning and moving furniture around, but there was no sign that Seraph was here now. He poked around a bit; his heart sinking as he realized that the rooms looked like someone was planning to move into them. Had he messed up so badly that she was willing to risk her life to get away from him?

He went out into the hallways of the theatre and slunk cautiously to her other set of rooms, to see if perhaps she was there.

When he arrived, it was dark in all the rooms, the doors ajar. There were no fires lit and all was still and silent. Even so, he went through her bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room for any sign that she had been there earlier in the day. If something had happened to her, he would be able to find her easier if he had an indication of who might have taken her.

There was nothing in any of the rooms, so he moved on to another section of the theatre. It never once crossed his mind to look in the room that he had stayed in for a couple of days.

* * *

Seraphina woke warm and refreshed. She stretched out and burrowed her face into the soft fur, inhaling the comforting scent of Erik.

After a while, she opened her eyes and sat up, pulling the cloak around her shoulders again.

While she had been asleep, she had realized that, though she knew that she had forgiven him, she wasn't sure that she was willing to admit that to him yet. He certainly didn't need to know that she loved him. If she told him that, he would probably laugh in her face.

No, Erik didn't like her and she wouldn't shame herself, therefore she had to act as though she didn't forgive him. She frowned deeply and got to her feet. She wished that things could be different. Perhaps with time they could come to an understanding of sorts.

She sighed and went to the door, slipping across the hallway into the kitchen. She would go down to the caverns, make sure Erik was all right, and fix some food.

Seraph stopped and looked down at the cloak wrapped around her and sighed. She didn't want to take it down to him, because then he would know if she ever borrowed it, but on the other hand, it did belong to him and she should return it to him.

She stepped through the doorway into the cavern and Erik looked up at her from where he stood by a box. An emotion passed across his face but by the time she really noticed it, it was gone.

Cold and distant, she reminded herself, act aloof.

She nodded coolly to him as she swept past, gracefully draping his cloak across the box next to him as she passed on her way to the icebox. There was already a nice meal on the table and she turned in surprise to Erik, who was watching her, his cloak now in his hand, his face as unreadable as ever.

That was one of the things that Seraph truly didn't like about Erik, she could never tell what he was thinking or feeling, it made her feel uncomfortably vulnerable.

"You made dinner?" She asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice.

There was a pause, then he answered, "Yes, I did. I thought you deserved a break after working all day."

Seraphina knew that her treacherous expression softened as her stomach fluttered, so she turned away, not wanting him to be able to see and exploit her weakness for him.

"That's very nice, thank you." She responded formally as soon as she was sure that her voice wouldn't betray her as well.

Behind her, Erik's face tightened slightly, his mouth pulling into a faint frown.

Dinner was a silent affair, the air thick and heavy, the stillness oppressive, and afterward it wasn't much better. The two unrelentingly stubborn people worked side by side, though Seraph refused to look at Erik and he tried not to glance at her too often. When they were done with the dishes, Seraph picked up a book and went over to a chair to read for a while.

Erik went to the icebox and got something out of it, muttering something softly to the three kittens that were waiting eagerly at his feet. He bent, and Seraph couldn't help but be curious what he was doing. She couldn't see from her angle, so she shifted a little in her seat, tilting her head.

The Phantom had placed a dish of milk on the floor for the kittens, which were purring and lapping it up as he pet them. She couldn't help the warm smile that slipped onto her features as she watched them.

Erik looked up, his gaze meeting Seraph's. His face was soft and for a moment she was able to delude herself into thinking that he looked welcoming, as though he wouldn't push her away if she went to him, but then she remembered the cold look she had seen in his eyes so many times as he looked at her, and her smile faded. She looked back down at her book a little sadly and the Phantom gritted his teeth in frustration.

She had been so close to actually smiling at _him_.

After a while more of silence, Erik walked to the entrance of the bedroom before he turned back to Seraph, pleased to find her watching him.

"I put blankets on the other bed, which should be more comfortable than the couch."

Her eyes dropped to the floor again as she replied, "Thank you Erik."

He nodded once before disappearing into the bedroom.

Seraph blinked tiredly, though at this point it was more emotional exhaustion than physical, and she got to her feet, finding a nightgown and looking warily at the bedroom before she slipped into a separate side-room, changing quickly.

She blew out the candles on her way to bed.

As she came into the room, she couldn't help but glance at Erik, who was reclined on one bed, the three kittens once again settled around him.

She got into the other bed and blew out the candle next to it, her eyes meeting Erik's. She turned away, laying her head on the pillow.

The room went dark as Erik extinguished his candle as well.

Seraph lay awake for a long time, listening to Erik's breathing, wondering if he was awake. After a while, one of the kittens mewed, demanding attention.

"Here kitty," she called softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. In response, the kitten mewed again.

Silence fell once more and she waited to feel the slight shift of blankets that would signal the kitten's jump onto the bed. There was nothing.

The kitten mewed again and Seraph sighed.

"If you want attention then come over here. Don't wake Erik, you little cad."

The cat meowed louder and fabric rustled. Seraphina lay still as Erik got up and came over to her bed. He set one of the kittens next to her and stroked it until it lay down, before he returned to his bed.

Seraph giggled softly as the kitten mewed again softly as Erik moved away and she began to pet her, encouraging Spice to let the man get some rest.

"Thank you Erik," she whispered softly into the darkness, completely unaware of the pleased expression that resided on the man's face.

"You are welcome, Seraph," came the soft reply, his rich voice seeming to meld with the deep gloom all about her.

She smiled and closed her eyes, slowly sinking into the oblivion of sleep.

* * *

Seraph woke slowly, a fond smile gracing her lips. There was light seeping through her closed eyelids and she could smell breakfast cooking. For a moment, she thought that she was back in her home, with mother and father at the table reading the paper, but when she opened her eyes, she remembered that she would never see her parents again. Her smile faded some and she looked around, sitting up slowly.

Erik was on the other side of the room, watching her, a book in his hands.

Seraph was unaware that her cheeks colored lightly as she met his gaze, but Erik saw and one corner of his mouth twitched up into a hint of a smile.

There was a demanding meow at his feet and they both looked down at Spice, who glared at Seraph for a moment before rubbing against Erik's boots.

He bent, picking the small cat up, and when he looked back at Seraphina, her smile was gone and she was gazing moodily at her blankets.

"I made breakfast," Erik said, hoping that Seraph would smile again, but she didn't. She didn't even look up as she thanked him and climbed out of bed.

Too late, she had remembered that she was still supposed to be mad at him. Erik left the room silently and she found a dress that was suitable for cleaning, donning it quickly. She tugged on her shoes with some difficulty, then finally made her way out to the main cavern, brushing her hair and glaring at the stone floor.

She accepted the plate that Erik handed her and thanked him politely, though she stubbornly refused to meet his eyes.

Once she was done eating and had cleaned her dishes, she slipped into the passages, going up to meet Amelia for another long day of cleaning.

When she arrived in her new suite of rooms, Amelia was already there and Seraph was very grateful that her friend's back was turned. She crept toward the door to the hall and opened it, "coming inside" loudly.

"Oh, Amelia, you're here already?" Seraphina asked in a surprised tone.

The look Amelia gave her said that she wasn't going to fall for that. " 'Phina, you do realize that it is almost eleven in the morning, correct?"

Seraph blinked, startled by that information. "Of course," she lied unconvincingly.

Amelia sighed, "Tomorrow we need to get you a pocket watch as well. Having windows obviously only works if you're actually inhabiting the rooms that contain some."

Seraph winced slightly, avoiding Amelia's gaze. She seemed to have been doing that a lot lately.

"I would tell you Amelia, honest I would, but it's complicated and…" Seraph trailed off and Amelia's expression softened.

"I know you would 'Phina, and it's all right if I don't know where you're staying. I wouldn't be trusting either in your place."

Seraph smiled and clapped her hands together, looking around. "So, what do we need to get done today?"

* * *

Well, so what did you think? Flames welcome :P along with the normal reviews of course...

Please


	15. Warmth and Sunshine

Hullo, I'm terrible I know, I really did intend to update a LOT more this summer, and now it's almost over! :(

I had a bit of a difficult time with this chapter, and it would have been a really lame and much less accurate chapter without the help of one of my best friends, who is a tremendous help whenever I'm stuck on this story :) Thank you Suze, haha :P

And I know, it's a tiny bit shorter than usual, but I think it should be easier now for a few chappies, I have this next section plotted out fairly well, I think.

Thank you so very very much for reading this, without you guys I would have long since given up.

The wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter are AngelicMinx, xxxQueenoftheDarknessxxx, Easley Girl, You can't Rush Science, Phantom's-only-Christine, ImmortalLibra, , and Kc, you guys are awesome, thanks so much for your support :)

Also, my computer is being stupid; I really need to get it fixed… Definitely before school starts up again, so that I can avoid doing my homework by writing instead ;) But that has also been slowing down my writing…

Anyway, I hope to have the next chapter up much sooner this time. Without too much further adieu, I present to you the next chapter of Angel of Hope.

Enjoy.

* * *

Seraph hummed to herself as she locked the door after Amelia and the workers had gone home. More people had come to work today in response to Amelia's advertisements in the paper and a lot had been accomplished over the course of the day.

Fairly early in the day, Seraphina had remembered that Erik played the organ and she had excused herself to go and take a look at what condition hers was in. It had seemed nice enough, so she had managed to find a way to take it apart, into pieces that she could manage, though still with a great deal of difficulty.

Now, she was making her way back and forth, moving the pieces so that later she could move them to somewhere Erik could use them. She picked up sections of the pipes, carrying them carefully into the hidden back room where she was storing the organ for now, until she could decide on a good way to get it all the way down to the cavern without damaging it.

She made more trips, moving the heavy pieces of metal while attempting to make as little noise as she could manage.

When she had finished hauling all but the last few sections of the pipes, she sighed wearily, leaning against the doorframe. Staring up at the large windows, she wondered vaguely when the light had faded. Seraph hadn't realized how late it was, she had been too absorbed in her thoughts and plans.

It had been a good day, she reflected as she started the long trek down through the passages to where her bed awaited her, even if it had been an exhausting one.

The cavern was merrily lit when she stepped in, candles were lit around the large room, not all of them, but it still seemed very welcoming, and it was far better than coming back to a dark, cold, lonely cavern. Seraph looked around for Erik, though she tried to tell herself that she wasn't searching for the enigmatic man. He was nowhere in sight and she frowned, listening intently. She heard a voice murmur something from one of the many smaller caves that lined the room and walked toward the sound, stopping in the entrance to the cave from which the sound had come, her breath catching in her throat.

That morning the cave had been barren and unused, but now shelves stood against most of the walls and Erik was filling them with the books, the three kittens playing at his feet.

Seraph smiled and stepped into the room, and Erik turned as she did so, becoming aware of her presence.

"This is beautiful Erik, thank you." She said in a hushed voice as she studied him. He looked tired, but satisfied, the white shirt he wore was open at the neck. It was the most relaxed Seraph had seen him in days, though he was still wearing his mask.

She glanced down to see Pumpkin and Dash still playing, but that Spice had stopped and was staring up at her irately, the tip of her tail twitching in her irritation.

Seraph bent down and offered the kitten her hand to sniff, but Spice turned away, going over to Erik and rubbing against his boots haughtily. Seraph smiled again and straightened, looking back up at the Phantom. To her surprise, he turned away as she did so, as silent as ever, and she thought that for a moment she might have seen some emotion on his face.

He returned to placing books on the shelves, and Seraph watched as he arranged them, always seeming to know exactly where each specific book was supposed to go as he sorted them by author.

"Are you hungry?" Seraph asked quietly and Erik paused for a moment, then he shrugged.

"Perhaps a little," he admitted.

She nodded to herself and went out to go and make them something to eat.

As she left, Erik frowned, wondering what time it was and cursing himself for not thinking to fix her something. But on the other hand, she had seemed pleased with the library. She had even smiled, though he wasn't sure it counted toward his goal of making her smile for him. It hadn't been a smile directed solely at him, after all.

They ate silently, and then cleaned up side by side, still not saying a word. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence though, merely peaceful.

Erik washed the plates and Seraph dried them and put them away. As they worked, it hit Seraphina how tired she truly was. It had been a very long day and her mind numbed as she preformed the monotonous tasks, her tired muscles relaxing.

After she had finished putting the last dish away, she turned around only to bump into Erik, loosing her balance.

Before she had even truly registered that she was falling, strong arms were around her, cradling her against a warm masculine chest, his scent filling her senses. Her hands settled instinctively on his shoulders and it struck her how natural the pose felt. She looked up at Erik, who was watching her with a seemingly tender expression, though later she would question that memory.

Her gaze slowly lowered from his eyes, across his mask, to his soft lips and, without thinking about what she was doing, she rose up onto her toes and kissed him.

Following a shocked moment, his lips parted and he pulled her closer to him as he deepened the kiss. Seraph's arms moved up around his neck and she closed her eyes, reveling in the moment.

After a few minutes, they broke apart and Seraph rested her head tiredly on Erik's chest, the beat of his heart slowly soothing the wild thrumming of hers. She never was quite sure how long they stood like that, but after a while her eyelids fluttered closed and she was dimly aware of being picked up and carried. She was set down a bit later on something soft, presumably a mattress, and another weight made the bed behind her dip.

Seraph slept, relaxed in the warmth from Erik's body, his arms wrapped loosely around her form once more.

She woke peacefully, relaxed and well rested, opening her eyes and gazing at the sleeping man next to her, dimly illuminated by a single sputtering candle. Several tranquil minutes passed before she abruptly remembered that she was supposed to go shopping with Amelia. Careful not to wake the sleeping Phantom, she slipped out of bed and silently found suitable clothes for the day. She paused for a moment, and went back over to the bed, rearranging the blankets better, then turned and started toward the kitchen to make breakfast.

She stopped again a few yards outside the bedroom, and sighed softly to herself, deciding that it would be prudent to see what time it was. Turning around, she went back into the bedroom again and retrieved her pocket watch off the shelf where she kept it, and flipped it open.

Glancing down at it, her eyes widened. Quickly, she set it back down again, grabbing a hat and her reticule on her way to the passages. If she hurried, maybe she would only be a _little_ late…

Amelia was waiting for her when she reached her rooms and Seraph had some difficulty finding a way to get past her friend's observant gaze. She had to wait until Amelia got up and went to the open window in the next room before she could slip out into the room.

Almost immediately, Amelia turned back toward Seraph. The other woman jumped; startled to see Seraph there, though she recovered herself quickly.

"You're late 'Phina," Amelia said, scowling a bit.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm afraid that I got a little delayed. But I'm here now," Seraph smiled, eager to go out. It had been some time since she'd been shopping for anything other than necessities. Nervously, she set the hat atop her head, arranging the veil attached to it carefully over her hair, and letting part of it obscure her face as it suddenly occurred to her that her uncle might well discover that she was out and attempt to kill her. As she pondered that disturbing thought, Amelia studied her face carefully.

Seraph looked well today, her blue eyes were bright and she seemed well rested.

"Are you excited about the ball?" Amelia asked, linking her arm with Seraphina's as they made their way through the halls toward the carriage awaiting them outside the theatre.

"Yes, I am indeed. It has been so long… I am feeling rather nervous as well, to be perfectly honest." Seraph smiled hesitantly at her friend, and Amelia smiled back reassuringly.

"You will be fine, don't worry Seraph, you'll be the talk of the town, everyone likes a mystery, and there is no one in the city except me who knows you."

Amelia had meant it in a kind way, but something twisted inside Seraph's heart, and she found her mind wandering. She saw glimpses of the happy times she had spent with her parents, her playmates when she was little, the actors rehearsing the latest performance on the gigantic stage, everything grand and wonderful to her younger self. Now all that was dusty, and dulled by the passage of time, memories fading into stillness, color and motion dimming, and leaving behind gray images. Then, her mind turned again, and she allowed it to go where it willed, and she recalled her phantom, the night he had slipped into her life.

The years before he had come were empty, and lonely, no one there with her. No one to stand by her, to guide her, to guard her. Yet more gray memories, wasted years over and gone, but as soon as he came, things… brightened somehow. Internally, she scoffed at the whimsical and romantic ideas her mind was conjuring, she wasn't sure that she actually believed in love, and even if she did, she couldn't be the one for Erik.

But he did change something; the air was alive when he was near, the shadows darker, the flames brighter.

She shook herself out of her thoughts with an effort, finding herself in the carriage with Amelia, who was still chatting away happily. Seraph blinked, and tried to figure out what Amelia was talking about, in case she decided to ask something.

"-even make the papers, would that not be fabulous? I can just see the headlines; 'City swept off it's feet', 'Masked beauty stuns all', 'Cinderella returns'." Amelia smiled dreamily and lapsed into silence, watching out the window, and Seraph rearranged her skirts a little nervously.

After riding a while in silence, Amelia turned back toward Seraph.

"So," she began eagerly, "what do you do in your spare time? Must be something exciting, living all alone in that creepy old place."

A laugh escaped Seraph; "It's really not that bad you know, I don't find it creepy at all, though it is lonely sometimes. That's partly what all the cats are for you know."

Amelia's nose wrinkled. "I'm not terribly fond of cats. They're dirty and hang around with mice too much for my liking."

Shaking her head, Seraph's smile widened. "Cats don't hang around with mice, they hunt mice and other things like that."

Amelia looked vaguely horrified. "Do they _eat_ mice?"

When Seraph nodded, Amelia pulled a face. "That is positively disgusting."

Seraph shrugged, and changed the subject.

"I don't really do all that much in my spare time. I try to keep myself flexible, so I practice the ballet things I learned when I was little. Nothing too exciting, I assure you." Seraph decided not to mention her reading, as it was unladylike and might shock the properly bread Amelia. Likewise, she didn't mention the cleaning work she did, which was work suitable for only a maid to do in polite society, or that she made and mended most of her own clothes.

Amelia looked disappointed. "I suppose you explored the place a long time ago. You were always a precocious thing, you probably knew the theatre as well as you knew the back of your hand even before your-" Amelia broke off uncomfortably, and Seraph knew what she had been about to say. _Before your parents died._

Seraphina shook her head, "No, they didn't like me to go into a lot of the areas, probably for good reason."

"Oh," Amelia said, after a few moments of heavy silence, "before I forget to tell you, I put a new ad in the paper, they're going to start running it tomorrow. I said that you were interested in hiring personnel for your theatre, and that experience was required. I hope that's alright, I thought that if people were experienced, it would be easier for you, and that you would get less riffraff…"

Seraph blinked, "Well… I really don't think that the theatre is in a condition to be having performances in yet…"

Amelia shook her head, "No, no, I knew that, but I thought that the backstage hands and people like that would know how things were supposed to work, and they could help you clean the place up faster."

Seraph nodded thoughtfully, pleased at Amelia's ingenuity. She doubted that she would have thought of that herself…

"Thank you Amelia, I truly appreciate your help with all this."

Sleepily, Eric stretched out an arm, expecting to encounter a warm, soft form there in bed with him, and he frowned as his hand met only cold, empty air. His eyes opened, and he sat up, looking around. Seraph was nowhere to be seen. He had hoped that she would stay for a while after she woke up, her actions last night … He stopped those thoughts cold, drawing in a deep breath and getting up, pulling his boots on before he went out into the cavern.

After a brief search around for Seraphina, he fixed himself breakfast. Just as he was starting to eat, there was a demanding meow at his feet. There was Spice, watching him expectantly, the tip of her tail twitching. She wasn't asking for a treat, she wasn't begging; she was demanding her share.

Shaking his head, he dropped some of his food for her and quickly finished the rest, and cleaned up the dishes.

That done, he made his way to the passage up to the theatre, Spice following at a distance, acting as though she wasn't following him, and was merely going the same way.

Seraph slipped inside one of the side doors to the opera house, utterly exhausted, but pleased with the outcome of her day's shopping.

They had spent hours looking through fashion books, and pictures of different styles of dresses, the shop attendants pointing out every third picture and gushing about how stunning it would look. By the time both she and Amelia had selected patterns, Seraph had been ready to scream, pull her hair out, or possibly both, and they still hadn't even looked at fabrics.

By the time they had picked out the fabrics that they wanted, and had their measurements taken, the sun was starting to fade, sliding towards the horizon.

Then they had briefly stopped at a cobbler and ordered dancing slippers and a pair of boots for Seraph.

She took off her hat, glad to be rid of the thing, and began to let her hair down as she walked, going up to her suite of rooms to change into a more comfortable dress before she went down to the caverns for something quick to eat, and a good long sleep.

With a heavy sigh, she slithered out of the heavy dress that she had worn into town and donned a much lighter dress that had far less petticoats to contend with, and looked longingly at the bed in her rooms upstairs. But she knew that she should make sure that Erik ate something. Wearily, she began the trek down into the caverns.

After almost setting off several of the traps in the corridor, she was very glad when she turned a corner and saw the glow coming from the entrance to the main cavern. Seraph blew out her candle, which truly hadn't been shedding much light for her tired eyes, and stepped out of the passage, managing to nearly trip on an uneven section of floor.

"I should go to bed before I kill myself of something," she murmured, pausing so that she could look around and hopefully not trip as she was doing so.

She didn't see Erik anywhere, but when she looked toward the floor again, she saw that Willow had come over to greet her.

"Hey there pretty kitty," she said, kneeling and petting the cat, which meowed and began to purr.

"Where have you been?" A male voice demanded, and Seraph looked up. Erik was walking toward her from the entrance to the library he had been working on the previous day.

"I was out shopping with Amelia," she replied a little testily, not liking the tone he had used.

"And why, pray tell, did you not see fit to inform me that you were going out?" His voice was hard and a little clipped, though she really couldn't understand why he was mad at her.

"I didn't think of it, and I did not want to wake you this morning, is there something wrong with that?" She snapped, glaring up at him.

He stopped, still several yards away, and glared back. "You also neglected to tell me about the people you had hired, Seraphina, when I went to look for you, I was certainly not expecting to find other people traipsing about through the theatre."

She opened her mouth to reply, but then she paused, as his words registered. He had been looking for her, had he been worried because he didn't know where she was?

"If you will recall," he continued without giving her more than a moment to attempt to reply, "last time you went out without telling me you were almost raped, and you were very fortunate that I decided to look for you when I did, otherwise you would be laying dead and broken in the gutter somewhere, and your uncle would have your precious theatre. You should be smart enough to know that you need other people to know where you are."

He paused for a moment, and Seraph hoped that perhaps he was done berating her now, but he wasn't finished.

"Unless of course," he said slowly, "you've been wrong all this time, and your uncle isn't trying to kill you. You're still alive after all, and practically anyone would be more clever than you. Perhaps the townspeople were right to shun you, and that you're as insane as they say, if you want to leave the only protector you have ever had for a life in a world filled with sunshine and worthless pursuits. The people in that world will only hurt you, they will win your trust and your love, take everything that you ever worked for, and leave you to the dogs."

"I wasn't trying to leave you," Seraph said softly, "and I don't think that you're one to talk about hurting people. You are certainly guilty of causing a lot of pain to a lot of people."

Erik's jaw tightened, and she knew that he had heard her, but he ignored her words, turning away and starting to pace restlessly.

"Why this Amelia person is choosing to ruin her social standing by being seen with you, I do not understand. Associating with such an ungraceful and unladylike woman will not be good for her reputation."

Suddenly, he cursed and swept one hand along a shelf, sending everything that had been there crashing to the floor.

Seraph flinched back at the sudden movement and ensuing noise, watching this stranger with a wary gaze. This was not the Erik she had come to know, he wasn't the man she had been living with. And this wasn't the Phantom either; this person was something else, darker, and far more dangerous.

Still, she couldn't show her fear. Straightening up to her full height, she glared at the man. "Maybe she associates with me because she's my friend and she loves me."

The man turned back toward her again, giving her a look that was both scathing, and menacing. "She may love you, but no man ever would," he snarled, and Seraph tried to hide the hurt his words caused.

"You can continue to waste your life here, hiding amidst your delusions, but I have no reason to stay and-"

"Then leave," Seraph shouted, feeling hot tears streaming down her cheeks and not being able to do anything about them. With a sob, she turned and ran blindly back up through the passages, drying her eyes as she went so that she could at least see a little.

She didn't stop until she reached the roof, collapsing into a sobbing heap at the foot of her favorite statue.

* * *

…Dun dun dun… I really probably should have added a few more paragraphs to the end, but I decided that doing so would be far too cruel. This is enough of a cliffy-ending for now. Maybe next time though, hehe…

Review? Please?


	16. Chapter 16 Important Author's Note

Hello dearest readers,

I am terribly sorry to disappoint you with one of those worthless little author note chapters, which we all dislike, but I thought it would be polite to at least give you a bit of warning, and sometimes it helps to voice things... And, that way you won't be tempted to think that I've either abandoned you, or dropped off the face of the earth, or died... haha.

My computer (as I think I mentioned in the author note in at least one of my stories) had a virus. I can now happy inform you that the virus is well and truly gone (I hope) from my wonderful computer.

That would be the silver lining in this particular massive bank of storm clouds which is currently deriving great amusement from hovering directly above my head. Yes, it comes complete with lightning, thunder, and a lot of rain.

I backed up all my files onto a portable hard-drive before I wiped my computer, but I had absolutely no idea that they were encrypted. The person who used the computer before me had changed the settings and then forgotten to change them back, etc. Such is human nature I suppose. At any rate, I didn't know that I needed to find the key and back that up as well, in order to be able to access ANY of my files.

They are right there at my fingertips, but, try as I might, I cannot get them back. I'm looking around lots of different places in an attempt to discover a way that I can by-pass it or something, but so far most of my sources tell me that my files are all gone. For good.

(If any of you know anything about encrypted files, can you send me a review, or a message or something? I would love to be able to chat with someone who knows even a little about it...)

As I am sure most of you can appreciate, this discovery has been a very tragic one. All of my stories, all of my plots, all of the notes I had, all the stories that I had started, but hadn't figured out enough of to be able to post anywhere. I had pages and pages and pages absolutely brimming with notations, which would one day have become best-selling novels, I can feel it (part of why I wrote them down in the first place...)

Four years of my life were in those files. I know that might not seem like a lot to some of you, but it's a hard loss for a young adult.

Naturally, this had to happen during the first week back at school too. There are definitely moments when I am absolutely positive that my life hates me.

And now, a strange thing has happened somewhere in my head. I think I am still in denial, or possibly even shock over the loss (so far it feels shockingly similar to the death of a pet). I might end up doing a little research on the topic, though I doubt there's much information available, but I am finding myself seemingly incapable of writing down ANYTHING. Not even what I remember of my files. I'm having a terrible time trying to do the homework for my writing class. I mean really, writing for fifteen minutes is amazingly short, in the scheme of things, you wouldn't think I'd have a hard time with it.

Perhaps I'm afraid of loosing whatever I write again. Or maybe I'm just afraid. Not really sure.

Needless to say, it will probably be quite some time before I have the willpower, endurance, strength, and time to update any of my stories.

All the notes I had about where I was going to take the story next, what I was going to work into the plot, what each chapter was going to contain, the little things that had given me muse... Gone... All gone... just like that... poof. Vanished. Well and truly disappeared, lost forever in the swirling, twisting, and more than a little cruel thing that is, apparently, Fate.

As you can doubtless see, even if my muse hates me right now, three days is far too long a stretch for me to go without writing anything, or thinking about my beloved characters, or plotting anything, or...

I'll stop now. Really I will... Sorry, I tend to be rather long winded...

With much love,

~Meg


	17. Don't Wake Me

Thank you to every one of you who have taken the time to read this story, it really means a lot to me.

And you people who've faved and alerted, you're awesome. Just wanted you to know that.

And all you wonderful, wonderful people who've reviewed: Thank you. Each and every review is a little piece of happiness added to my life :)

I adore you all, and I feel really bad about how long it's taken me to write this chapter. I have re-written this thing so many times, I can't even remember… I hope you guys think it's worth the time you've had to wait.

The songs for this chapter are "Don't Wake Me" by Skillet, and "Taking Over Me" by Evanescence, and they really do help enhance the mood of the chapter, so…

Enjoy

* * *

Seraph opened her eyes with a soft moan, shifting her arm across her face in an attempt to block out the intense morning light that was currently burning brightly into her face. The movement sent tingles throughout her body as her tired and fatigued muscles protested the long cold night spent on the hard roof at the foot of a statue.

With a grimace, she slowly sat up, and wearily scrubbed a hand over her tear-stained face. Looking around blearily, her mind went back to the events of the previous night. She frowned unhappily, all too aware that she had said a lot of things that she hadn't meant. When she had been little, her parents had always taught her to never part with someone angrily, because that would only hurt both people involved in whatever argument had occurred. But she had done just that, and now she felt miserable. She needed to talk to him. What if he hadn't realized that she hadn't actually meant that she wanted him to leave? But no, he was a smart man, and at times seemed to know her better than she knew herself. He wouldn't have left. At least not without saying goodbye.

But she still needed to talk with him.

Resolutely, she climbed to her feet, ignoring the protests of her stiff body. Pausing only long enough to light a lantern, she made her way downward, through the twisting labyrinth of hallways and passages.

After what seemed like miles of dark, empty halls, she finally reached the cavern. She hesitated in the doorway, fear sinking icy claws into the pit of her stomach as she realized that the large cavernous space felt empty. She knew what empty rooms felt like, and she hadn't realized how pleasant it had been to not feel the heavy, oppressive silences. The stillness so deep, even the slightest movement would shatter it. She had become accustomed to having another person living with her, she realized, and she couldn't see, hear, or sense any sign of him here.

She stepped into the cavern, the sound of her foot against the stone floor and the swish of her skirts overly loud in her own ears. There was a soft patter, and a cat dashed past her, out of the cavern. She watched it go, staying still as it passed. It wasn't one that she recognized, which was strange. Usually Willow and her kittens would chase away most any other cats who came near.

Thinking back, she realized that it was mainly Spice who loved it down here in the caves. The other cats would hunt down here sometimes, but they generally kept to the upstairs, in the Opera House proper.

Frowning, Seraph turned back to the large, forbiddingly silent cavern.

There were only a few candles still burning, and they were guttering wildly, with barely enough wax left to sustain the flames. They had been going all night then, she realized, her stomach sinking a bit further.

A sense of urgency flooded through her, and she bit her lip. She _had_ to find Erik, she had to apologize, or do whatever it would take to get him to stay. She hadn't meant the things she had said to him, she _needed_ him now. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes as she noticed the food neatly lying out on the table.

Had he made dinner for them last night? He had done something nice for her, and all she had done in return was yell and tell him to leave. Dashing the crystalline droplets away somewhat impatiently, she checked all the side-caves and small rooms. His cloak was missing, his masks were gone… He had left her.

No, no, she tried to assure herself, he wouldn't have gone so suddenly. Surely he had known that if he'd wanted it, she would have given him anything.

Feeling miserable and hating it, she slowly sank to the floor, her tears flowing unheeded down her cheeks, falling unnoticed on the stones beneath her.

Before he had come, she'd been used to the dark; it had been her companion and her friend, but now it pressed menacingly in on her. Did it feel as though she had betrayed it by wanting a different companion? Surely not. She had been very much a child still, before Erik. At the time, she hadn't thought of herself as young or petty, but looking back on it, she could see. She was weak, longing for things she couldn't have. There wasn't much point to it; all she could do was go on, the same way she always had.

But thinking such things, and accepting them and acting upon those sentiments were different, and try as she might, the tears wouldn't stop. She couldn't stop replaying her last moments with Erik in her head, wishing she had handled things differently.

Eventually, Seraph couldn't cry any more. She was tired, but she didn't dare sleep. What if he had forgotten something and came back? If she was asleep then he would just leave again and she would probably never even know that he had been here. But she knew that she couldn't sit here feeling sorry for herself and waiting for him to come back.

Stubbornly forcing herself to stand, she made her way laboriously back up through the passages. Whether or not she ever saw Erik again, she would not give up her life and plans. She'd already come through far too much to surrender now. Her parents had died, and her uncle was out for her blood, whether or not Erik believed it.

She paused for a moment, resting against the wall, taking comfort and support from the solidity of the cold, rough stones. What if Erik was right? What if she had been wrong all these long, lonely years, wasting away in this prison? What if things were as he had said, and she was merely delusional?

Seraph felt her lips begin to quiver again, and stubbornly shoved aside all thoughts of her lost Phantom. She had work to do, she told herself; she had to make her theatre presentable again. That was, after all, what she wanted. She could make-do without him, and be just fine. There were other men, if she ever decided that she wanted to marry.

XOXOXO

Seraph ignored the passage of time as she worked, forcing herself to go from room to room, mopping, dusting, and sweeping. She did her best to think of nothing except her tasks, and tried to rid herself of the tormenting thoughts which plagued her constantly. And yet no matter how fiercely she scrubbed a patch of floor, no matter how thoroughly she dusted, she couldn't escape.

His words floated around her head. In every reflection she thought she caught a glimpse of him there behind her. Her mind replayed every moment they had touched, every brush of his hand against hers, or his mouth on hers; any little contact.

There was a deep ache in her chest, and she felt hollow somehow. At times, she would be forced to stop, fighting to breathe. Never had she felt this way, not even when she had gotten frighteningly sick during her third year living alone.

When Amelia found her, she was utterly exhausted, but still trying to work. Something inside her craved satisfaction, and in the past, she had always found that contentment after completing a difficult task, or cleaning a wing of the theatre.

XOXOXO

She didn't know how much time passed while she was ill. All she knew was that whenever she was awake, Amelia was there, usually with water for her to drink, or warm broth, or some other horrible tasting liquid which she suspected was medicine. She didn't like seeing the concern on Amelia's face, and she hated making her friend worry, especially when there was no need for it.

She wasn't awake often, which she liked. When she was asleep, there was no pain. When she was dreaming, he was there with her, holding her, soothing her, whispering softly to her. She didn't want to wake; didn't want to have to go through the pain of having him gone again. Once had been enough. So long as she slept, she could be safe, and warm, and content.

Strange melodies floated through her head, and Erik would hum along with them as he lay stretched out next to her, his arms resting comfortably around her. The kittens lay on top of the blankets near them, and Seraph knew what contentment felt like. His strong hand smoothed over her hair, and he leaned over her, his warm breath ghosting across her face, but she had already learned not to try to touch him.

That was the downside to this 'reality.' If she touched him, he would disappear, and she would either wake up, or suffer through a nightmare until she woke. All she wanted to do was to reach out and hold him close to her, but she couldn't. He felt so real, and the way he looked at her in these dreams made her feel so special, beautiful, and loved.

If it had been real, then she would have been wholly content, but one thing or another always forced her awake. Amelia would shake her, or Willow would jump up onto her bed and remind her that _he_ wasn't real, or too much light would stream in through the windows.

Eventually, no matter how much she might have wished otherwise, she had to get up, and go on with her life.

When she made the final decision that she was going to move on, Amelia wasn't in the room, and Willow watched her from the comfort of a padded chair which was in a large patch of sunshine.

She pushed the blankets back, and got slowly out of bed, wavering a bit once she was on her feet. She hadn't realized how frail she'd been becoming. She was thinner than she remembered being before… But she wasn't going to think about that, or about _him_.

Seraph walked unsteadily over to the chest of drawers, feeling her resolve crumbling. She cast a longing look over her shoulder at the now-empty bed, wishing that there were another form under the blankets. He would probably grumble about the light and perhaps even try to get her to stay with him instead of getting up, before rolling over and going back to sleep.

She could see it so clearly, see every detail of his face as he watched her from the bed that her breath caught, and her heart clenched with painful hope. The door opened, and he was gone.

Drawing in a shaky breath, she looked over to the doorway, where Amelia was looking at her as if she couldn't quite comprehend what she was seeing. And then, after another heartbeat, her friend was crossing the room, a smile on her face, giving Seraph a gentle hug.

"Oh, I'm so glad to see you up. How are you feeling?"

Seraph blinked, and hesitated. "I'll be alright," she lied, and quickly added, "Thank you for looking after me. I know I worried you, and I'm sorry for that."

Amelia shrugged. "Never mind that, I know you would have done the same for me if our positions had been reversed. Do you think you're well enough to come to the ball tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

She wasn't at all sure if she would be able to handle it, but she nodded and murmured, "Of course," which pleased Amelia, who turned to the open chest of drawers and rummaged through until she lifted out several packages wrapped up in paper.

Amelia handed one of the packages to her, and looked at her eagerly, obviously wanting her to open it. Seraphina did so, sitting down in a nearby chair to untie the strings and un-wrap the paper.

Lush fabrics cascaded out across her lap, glimmering and sparkling like something out of a fairy tale, catching the light and sending small sparks of color throughout the room. Amelia sighed, reaching out and touching the soft fabric in awe.

Seraph knew that if it had been any other time, she would have been utterly thrilled with the exquisite beauty of the dress, but now she merely offered Amelia a smile, and set the dress aside as she was handed another parcel.

Piece by piece, she unwrapped her costume for the ball, and, as she looked over it all, she knew that they had made excellent choices with the selections they'd made. She was going as a butterfly, and the gossamer wings had been carefully crafted looked like real wings.

The black and deep sapphire blue colors would contrast elegantly with her pale skin and red hair, and Amelia delightedly exclaimed that the blue matched her eyes perfectly.

When Amelia handed her the mask that went with the costume, Seraph stared at it for a long moment, remembering other masks, which brought her mind back to thoughts of Erik.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She shouldn't cry over him, he'd made his choice, and she had made hers. Amelia watched her in silence for a long moment.

"Come on," she said softly, "let's go get something to eat. We'll need our strength for tomorrow."

Seraph nodded resignedly, and Amelia led her downstairs to the kitchens.

Seraph stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, looking around aghast. The last time she had been in here, perhaps a week before, it had been a dingy looking room, with bare walls and a layer of dust over everything. Now, there were several people Seraph didn't recognize bustling around, the room had been cleaned, and, best of all, she could smell food cooking.

Amelia noticed that Seraph had stopped, and turned around. "Oh," she said, looking around a little sheepishly. "I guess I forgot to warn you about this. You see, since you've been… otherwise engaged recently, I went ahead and hired some more people. The Opera Populaire had a terrible fire a while ago, so all their staff have been out of work for weeks, and a lot of them saw the ads I put in the paper. They know the job, and they know each other, so I hired some, and told the rest to try again in a few weeks if they still needed jobs."

Seraph blinked, taking in the changes that had been made. "Thank you Amelia," she said slowly, "that was good thinking. I truly appreciate your help, and I'm sorry that I've been difficult."

"No, no, 'Phina really, it's alright. Something happened, I know that, and I can understand that whatever it is was hard on you. I only wish you would tell me about it."

Seraph sighed softly. "I might someday. Right now though, it's still far too fresh in my mind."

Amelia nodded, and waved cheerfully to a young blond woman, who looked to be fairly close to their age. She came over to them, and Amelia made the introductions.

" 'Phina, this is Margret Giry. Meg, this is Seraphina Bellerose, the owner of the theatre."

Meg smiled, and curtsied gracefully. "It's a pleasure to meet you M'lady," she said, and Seraph managed a smile.

"The pleasure is mine, I'm sure," she replied, and Amelia smiled at her.

"Meg was a ballerina at the Opera Populaire, and her mother was the ballet mistress," Amelia told her, and Seraph felt suddenly dizzy as she remembered why the name had seemed so familiar. Meg Giry had been a close friend of Christine, and she'd read about her in Christine's diary.

The sweet, smiling face of Meg Giry made her feel ill, knowing that this innocent woman her own age had taken part in the plot that had utterly destroyed _his_ life. But, she struggled to remind herself, she wasn't going to think about him any more.

"Welcome to my theatre," she said, inclining her head to the pretty ballerina.


End file.
